


A King's Request

by Emily_F6



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lady Anne agrees to a favor for her friend and King, she finds herself in a land she thought only existed in fairy tales, and she soon finds herself traveling with a fellowship made up of the best warriors she's ever met, all sharing the same goal: destroy a ring. But there are those who do not believe that a woman can be a warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Anne stared at the intricate carvings on the floor a few feet from her face, the white marble melding with the black, and the little golden flecks forming random shapes before her eyes until she heard a snicker. "Are you going to kneel there all day?" Smiling, she looked up at her king and stood, her hands clasped in front of her in more informal pose. The man before her, tall and handsome as he had been in their youth, had been her constant friend since her eleventh birthday when she had come to the palace to train for her shield.

"You called for me, Ron?" She asked, taking note of the lack of guards in the great throne room. It was rare for her to catch such a private moment with the king of the realm nowadays, but they were seldom formal in public anyway, and her informality was reciprocated.

"Anne…I need to ask something of you." She frowned a bit, her hands relaxing themselves. The last time she had been asked a favor in this manner, she had been sent out to fight centaurs at the border, nearly dying in the process. Still, she was the head of an entire company, one of the foremost knights in the realm, and one of only five female knights to serve the King, despite a lift on the ban which had forbidden women to even attempt the training. At 20, Anne was on her way to being the top knight in the realm, maybe even replacing the current champion one day. That is, if she lived to see her 21st birthday. Her king and friend's face was particularly grim. "Do you know of Lord Elrond, Anne? Of the elves of Rivendell?"

She lifted an eyebrow at the name. "The legend of Middle Earth, my lord?" She asked, forgetting their friendship for an instant amidst the surprise.

"It's hardly a legend, Anne." He scolded softly. "He contacted me. Middle Earth is very much a real place, my lady." His eyes teased her, but his tone was serious. "There are very few sailors who know how to navigate to their shores, and even fewer who will dare attempt it. But Lord Elrond has all but pleaded with me. There is an evil at work in their land, and if we sit by and allow it to take over, who is to say that it will not come here next? And who would come to save us then? Are you willing to bet our safety on the lion of the mythical realm of Narnia?"

"Ron…you're talking about fairy stories. Children's tales. How can…" She hesitated at his sharp look. Friends they may be, but he was still her king. She took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. If Ron wished to send her on some ridiculous quest to a land that didn't exist…well, who was she, a common girl from the countryside turned knight, to argue. "I beg your pardon. Of course you are right. If this Lord….Elrond?" He nodded. "Lord Elrond needs assistance, then it shall be given. Who will accompany me, if I may ask?" This time her eyes were teasing, and his face relaxed into a smile.

"That blasted bird of yours, I daresay. But I am sending you alone. I have the utmost of faith in your ability to represent our land, and I have every company available at the border. Those giant spiders you spotted were no joke, and our neighbors from the west seem intent on invading us. I need every spare knight and soldier patrolling. But you've got your company trained. It won't hurt them to be without you for a while. Besides, I wouldn't do Lord Elrond the injustice of sending just any knight." She felt her face grow hot. Compliments were something she tended to squirm her way out of, but he had just said to her face that he thought she was great. Bowing stiffly and ignoring his chuckle, she begged off to go pack and he agreed, telling her that the rest of her information would come in a day's time.

Stepping back into her chamber, she looked longing at the large bed for a moment, then sighed and reached under it for her pack. The bag was quickly filled with all manner of sensible clothing; shirts, breeches, hose, tunics, and even a dress, in case this mythical Lord Elrond existed and expected his women to look presentable. After pulling out her charmed stone, made for her by a good mage friend that would keep her monthlies from bothering her when she was out 'questing' as the woman had teased, she threw some cotton pads into the bag just in case. She had learned long ago that certain things could not be replaced if the need arose.

Her sharpening stone, the spike strap for her hair, and a pair of gloves were thrown in as well. A pecking at the window interrupted her packing and she smiled at the raven perched there. "Hello Mori." She held out a hand and the bird leapt on to her wrist, making her way up to Anne's shoulder, then tugging her hair affectionately.

"Another quest?" The bird wondered. Anne shrugged, long past the phase where she was surprised by the strange bird's ability to speak to whichever people or animals it chose.

"Ron's got it in his head that the elves of Rivendell need my help." She mumbled irritably. The bird was strangely silent and Anne stiffened, turning her head to catch a glimpse of her black little friend. "Morrigan? Are elves...Is there a Lord Elrond of Rivendell waiting for me on the other end of this journey?"

"There are many things waiting for you at the end of this journey, Annie girl." The bird said cryptically, then flew onto her perch and began cleaning her ebony feathers.

Anne stared for a moment, then sighed, knowing all about the stubbornness of ravens. "Very well. Keep your secrets. I'll learn soon enough." Still, her curiosity was piqued. If there was a Middle Earth, and this 'Lord Elrond' wasn't a hallucination of a hard-headed king, then what was she to do with it? She was a knight, a young one. Facing some vague evil in a strange land was hardly something she was prepared to do.

The next day she woke at dawn, sure that this would be the last good night's sleep she would get for a while. Stretching and moaning until the bird nipped her ear for complaining, she sighed and threw herself back on the pillows. "I hate the morning." She grumbled, pulling herself out of the nest of covers and putting out some bread left by one of the servants for Mori, even though the bird could easily hunt for herself. After sampling some of her own breakfast, she dressed in her traveling clothes; a tunic and hose, sturdy, comfortable boots where she hid her two short knives, her gloves, a belt which held her sword, and a heavy hand fan given to her by a good friend in the court. The razor blade edged fan served as both decoration and as an 'appropriate' weapon for women of a higher status. The large weapon-in-disguise had served her well many times, and she wouldn't travel without it.

She stared at her bow for a while. It was a long bow, nearly as tall as her, and was useful if inconvenient to carry, much like her glaive. She decided to ask Ron's opinion when they met, then, bird on her shoulder and pack on her back, she went to get her orders from the King.

Anne always noticed the beauty of the palace when she was about to leave it. It had been her home for nine years now, and the occupants felt like family. When she had first arrived on the day of her birthday, a cold and exhausted runaway, she had feared the giant halls, the ornate furnishings, even the carefully quiet serving girls. But now, after five years of going out on quests and into battles, she couldn't imagine coming home to any place else.

Ron waited in a small chamber off the throne room, two guards, old friends of hers, flanking the door. She smiled and bowed shortly at the two men who allowed her inside, then stepped in front of the door. Ron was sitting on a low chair, and looked her over. "Perfect." He stated in approval. "Anything more, and you would be inconvenienced." She nodded a bit in disappointment. Traveling without either glaive or longbow would be hard. A row of small throwing knives were belted to one calf, but they wouldn't last long in a real battle. "I have a map for you." He pulled out a leather envelope, inside of which was a neatly folded map which showed a strange place, made up of places with strange names, like 'Mordor' and 'the Misty Mountains' both of which sounded rather ominous. "Ride to the eastern border. You'll meet a captain there, watching for you. He has promised you safe passage. His fare has been paid in advance." She didn't bother asking how long he had been planning this little trip, nor for how long he had known of the existence of this 'Middle Earth.' He would certainly never answer.

"Thank you. I will leave immediately." She bowed shortly, and turned to leave when he caught her hand, pulling her to a stop.

"Anne…" He pulled her face close, resting his forehead against hers, a habit from their childhood they had dropped years ago, when both were squires and were expected to behave with some decorum in public. "I'll miss you."

"Try not to get into too much trouble when I'm gone." She said lightly. He grinned at her discomfort and kissed her hand, knowing exactly how to annoy her. She swatted him away and left the room, refusing to let herself look back.

"I'll be back." She whispered to Mori, though she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

The ride east was uneventful, save for a few bandits. But those were dispatched easily enough, and after three days on the road, she found herself taking deep breaths of salt air with mixed feelings. Boats weren't particularly fun to ride, but it was her destination that worried her. The map, well worn with her own use, was nearly memorized by now, but anxiety curled in her stomach as the sea finally came into view. 'What if I forget were everything is? What if I lose the map? What if this is all a trap?' She tried to shake her head to dislodge her negative thoughts. The annoying habit of imagining the worst against her will seemed to be fighting her common sense, on which she prided herself, and she forced herself to imagine the map again, going over the odd names and the roads which sprouted throughout the realm like roots of a tree, going at strange angles and sometimes ending abruptly, as roads were wont to do. Mori gave a little trill and nibbled her ear, trying to calm the young lady knight, and eventually she was able to breathe easily again.

The captain of the little ship, who stood a good foot taller than her and was burly and brusque, ordered her to a cabin immediately an order with which she easily complied. She still knew next to nothing about the contraptions and had little desire to. For a full seven days she spent much of her time in the room, with a window open to allow her friend room to fly, and did little other than stretch to keep her muscles from tightening, and sword exercises. Skills wielding her fighting fan were sharpened, as was her aim with the little throwing blades. Needless to say, but the end of the week, she was wondering if swimming home would be an option.

Stepping off the gangplank and onto the green shore after the horrific boat ride was over, Anne looked around the unmagical looking and totally empty hills and forlorn looking river which seemed to go on for miles with a bit of disappointment. She had been expecting...a bit more. Thinking back to the map, she realized that she had to go northeast along the river to reach the city of Rivendell. She also realized that she didn't have a horse. Swearing softly, she began to walk, coming up with creative curses for her king and best friend.


	2. Elves

Anne ran out of curses after only a few miles. Thanking every god and goddess Ron believed in for the river racing along beside her and guiding her, she stopped to take a drink and rest, watching idly as Mori waded into the water and drank. Luckily the bird had kept up a stream of chatter to distract her from the long walk, but she was still exhausted. Walking across country hadn't been a part of the plan, but then again, neither had the place actually existing. Despite the words of her raven friend, she had been partially convinced that the brooding boat captain would drop her off somewhere near the border and that she would be forced to walk back and inform the king that he had been scammed. But the river matched the map, running and curving in all the right places. More than that, this place felt different, if such a thing made sense. The few trees she ran in to along the way felt…older, wiser even. The birds looked different. Even the grass seemed a different shade of green than she was use to, although it was just as edible as the stuff back home.

Although the scenery was beautiful, the knight began looking out for cities where she could, if push came to shove, steal a horse before nightfall. She honestly hoped that she could find a kind traveler or innkeeper willing to lend her the steed, but she very much doubted that would happen. She didn't even know what languages they spoke in this place, or if the common tongue of her country would be understood. She hoped so, since communicating with this 'Lord Elrond' seemed to be part of the deal.

It wasn't until the sun began to sink in the sky and she had nearly resigned herself to walking the whole way that she saw a city in the distance. A large crudely fenced in area holding about fifteen horses she could see (and she was sure there were others) was visible off to the side. Deciding that taking a risk on bartering with the locals was a bad idea, she slipped into the city as dusk was falling, keeping her head down and her hood up. Whispering a prayer of thanks to whatever god was listening, she looked around the city. Most of the buildings were stone, with what appeared to be thatch roofs. A large stone building a little ways down the road towered over the other buildings, and a little well sat in the middle of a courtyard in front. Wondering if it was their church, Anne turned back around and paid closer attention to the people.

Women and children, most in little more than rags, idled about, some holding discussions, others pulling their children along home. Men walked home from their jobs and new men came to guard the city and the horses. Following her nose, she was able to locate the stables, which were close to the entrance to the city, and walked inside. Long ago she had learned that acting as if you belonged somewhere was often the ticket inside. Bridles hung along the sidewall, and saddles sat on racks or on stall doors. Deciding quickly that she would never be able to smuggle a saddle out without drawing attention, she picked a plain bridle and strolled out to the pasture, her purposeful gaze keeping all that would question her at bay.

Slipping under the fence, she watched Mori scout out the horses, unnoticed by the aging guard. Thieving was an old skill that she had never quite lost, something she was grateful for now. "The grey one." Mori called from her perch on a fence post by her head, nodding to one of the horses. "He's young enough, and strong too. I asked if he would help and he said he would love to. He's itching to go on a good run." Thanking her friend quietly, Anne made her way over to the grey beast, first crouching in the grass as she nearly crawled forward, then using his body and neck to hide her from the obviously inattentive guards, and whispered in his ear as she eased the bridle over his head, and the bit into his mouth, careful not to hurt his ears as she bent them to fit under the head strap. "What's your name?" She wondered.

Mori translated her question, then perched on his shoulder. "His masters call him Silver. He says that'll have to do, since he doubts you can pronounce his horse name." Anne grinned with a nod and pulled herself onto his broad back. Her lack of armor made it easier to mount and adjust her weight, and would make her lighter to carry, but she was still worried. Whatever evils they had in Middle Earth, and she was sure they were around somewhere; she knew she would feel better facing them if she had some protection.

The horse leapt the fence easily after she nudged him forward, and she wondered at the easy way she had just stolen a horse…albeit a willing one. Had it been her own home, she would have been shot dead the instant she attempted to enter a fenced field after dark. But she wasn't about to complain. It would make the journey to the elfish city that much easier. Promising herself that she would return the horse at the end of her journey, she set off along the river once again.

The journey from then on out was easy…until she reached the forest of course. But, she rationed later, it would have been strange to make it all the way to Rivendell without any trouble.

It was nearly nightfall, five days later, when she caught sight of the forest, and she decided to camp by the road, asking her raven to keep watch as always. She fell asleep rather quickly, lying near Silver as he grazed, but was startled awake after a few hours by a sharp tug on her ear. Biting her lip at the sharp pain, she employed every bit of self-control she owned so as not to cry out, since she was sure that Mori had woken her for a good reason. Lo and behold, the sound of marching met her ears as she slipped out from under her traveling cloak and led the horse closer to the cover of the forest. Whatever these creatures were, there were about thirty of them, and she didn't care for those odds. The three hid amongst the trees and Anne hoped that these monsters, for as they came closer, she realized they were, in fact, some sort of horrible monster, would not see her. Dying before she met Lord Elrond was a most distasteful thought.

Just when she was starting to plan an escape, the sound of hooves met her ears, and a company in full armor came thundering through the forest, bows drawn, and arrows rained down on the deformed creatures, making quick work of the apparent intruders. Seeing her chance, Anne stepped out from the bushes and held up her hands, palms out, and hoped they wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later. The leader of the company was the first to spot her and leapt from his horse, striding over to her easily, bow drawn while the others watched warily.

"Who are you?" He asked sharply, his eyes raking over her tall, undernourished frame and meeting her bright green eyes with his blue ones.

"My apologies, my Lord. I am Lady Anne. Your Lord, Elrond, has requested my presence." She winced inwardly, hoping that it was true. Ron had never proven his claim to her. "I am to attend a council?" She made it a question, hoping they would know of what she spoke. The man dropped his bow arm and eased the arrow until it was lose and then placed it back into a quiver at his back. He then removed his helmet, revealing dark brown hair and a wizened, though somehow young, face.

"No, my apologies, my Lady. We did not receive word from your King, though we waited for many days. I had lost hope that anyone would come, and you were…unexpected." She didn't have an answer for that, as she was staring at his fair, though aged face (she was still pondering that one) and pointed ears in the moonlight, coming to the realization that this was no man at all. "I am Lord Elrond. Allow me to escort you into Rivendell, Lady Anne."

Shocked into speaking her mind, she stared at the elf as he climbed gracefully onto his horse, feeling like a great ogre trying to throw herself onto Silver's back, especially since she had no saddle. "Um…no my Lord. I mean…there's no need to call me…you need only call me Anne, my Lord." She finally stammered out, red in the face at both her sudden inability to articulate and the amused smiles on a few of the company's faces. Lord Elrond only gave her a soft smile and a short nod before urging his horse forward. Glancing at the other elves, she realized that she was to follow first, and nudged silver forward; Mori perched on her shoulder beneath her braid.

She could scarcely see the city, even with the moon shining down, so she didn't bother looking around, focusing instead on the elf in front of her and the path they followed towards what appeared to be a sort of palace. She dismounted when he did, once again feeling like a great beast next to the graceful elf, and smiled at another elf who came and led her horse away. Mori, always letting curiosity win over sleep, opted to follow Silver and maybe do a little exploring. Anne, on the other hand, followed Elrond (she didn't know if he was to be called a king, so she stuck with 'my Lord') into the beautiful building. Inside, torches were lit along the walls, which were covered with paintings and murals, and he led her to a giant room with a large, comfortable looking bed and windows overlooking what appeared to be a balcony and garden.

"Please make yourself comfortable." He told the young woman kindly. She started, staring at him with wide eyes. It was rare that she was able to get any kind of good sleep while traveling or following the commands of the king, and her hosts were seldom welcoming. "We shall all meet tomorrow after the midday meal, and you will be informed of the location beforehand. You have plenty of time to sleep, or explore, if you so choose."

Folding her hands, she bowed at the waist. "Thank you, my Lord." She said, honesty more grateful than she could say. Whatever she had been expecting of the elves of Rivendell, this was not it.

"Of course. I will see you in the morning." She could hear the smile in his voice, and felt his hand briefly rest on her shoulder.

'He's quite kind.' She thought as she straightened, staring at the shut door. After a few minutes, she pulled it open, half surprised that she wasn't locked in. She stepped into the hall for a moment. "So it wasn't a trap." She whispered into the stillness. "So what is it I am to do here?" Turning back to her room, she climbed into the bed and allowed herself to fall asleep in the strange place.


	3. Rivendell

The sun began to rise on Rivendell early in the morning, about five hours after Anne's arrival. The other inhabitants, men and dwarves, and even four hobbits, lay in bed for a little while longer, oblivious to the sun's rays as they pressed uselessly against the hangings on the windows. One man and one elf, however, were roused from their slumber, as it was their habit to rise with the sun, and sought to find one another, for they were old friends and the man had been informed of the elf's arrival the day before, but had been too busy to search him out and greet him. Another man, with light brown hair, tall and sturdy; a man from Gondor, rose soon after.

However, the curtains in Anne's rooms had not been drawn, and so as soon as the light touched the side of her face, she woke with a jolt, cursing her own stupidity in forgetting to close her curtains and then remembering abruptly where she was. Looking around the room, she realized that it was even grander than she had first supposed, with two elegant chairs in the corner, between which was a shelf full of old looking books, a wash basin in another corner, and a door leading out to a balcony. Climbing out of bed, she closed the curtains and then she made her way over to a tall basin of water by the door where she washed her face and, grabbing a bottle from her pack, cleaner her teeth and then the rest of her as best she could, using the thick towels on the table beside the basin to dry off. Afterwards, she changed into her nicest shirt and hose, saving the dress for later when she would appear at a council of whose purpose she had not been informed. She stepped over to the windows, but lingered at the bookshelf. She loved books, and had a large collection at home, but as she ran her fingers over the spines, she realized that these were written in a language she had never seen before.

Pushing aside the curtain once more, she let the light into the room as she stepped out into the warm morning air. Breathing deeply, she felt at peace immediately, and closed her eyes in surprised happiness. The waterfalls could be heard roaring in the distance, and strange birds flew to and fro, reminding her to look for her own feathered friend later. Checking the pendant against her throat, tucked out of sight, she headed back into her room and opened the door leading to the hallway, deciding to take a walk, first taking a moment to run a brush through her long black hair and pull it into a braid, leaving the spiked strap out. Sure that nothing would attack her here, she left her weapons, save her fan, tucked into her belt, in the room. Careful to keep track of where she walked, she soon found herself in awe of the beautiful paintings of both elves and men that hung on the wall. Rarely was such artwork found in her own home, but very little art was hung on the walls of the palace where she lived, at least not in the corridors and rooms she visited. Straying a little farther she found a platform, covered in cloth, holding a broken sword. There was a little plaque on the cloth, and a statue of a man lay behind it, but attempting to read the plaque was fruitless, as it was written in the same language as the books.

Footsteps sounded behind her and she stiffened, turning her head to catch a glance at whoever was approaching. Two men…no, a man and a fair haired and young faced elf, were emerging from the corridor, deep in conversation in a strange tongue. The man chuckled softly at something the elf said, then replied in a hushed tone. Turning back to the sword, she pretended to be engrossed in it, running a careful finger over the broken blade, then cursing her own stupidity as the edge sliced her finger. Careful not to get blood on the beautiful furnishings, she stuck the finger to her lips to ease the sting.

"What are you doing?" A sharp, accusing voice came from the other direction, and she heard the conversation between the man and the elf come to an abrupt halt. Turning, she found the eyes of the pair, along with another man with golden brown hair and a severe frown, all on her. "That sword belongs to Gondor. Who are you?"

She saw the elf frown and step forward, and the black haired man began to speak, but her temper flared and she gave the man a cool glare, slipping the finger out of her mouth and absentmindedly hoping she didn't bleed on the floor in such a nice place. "If this sword belongs to Gondor, then why is it in Rivendell?…" He opened his mouth but she cut him off. "Actually, I don't really care. As to who I am, I am a guest of Lord Elrond, and in my land, it is the man who introduces himself to the lady." He seemed taken aback, and the pair in the doorway gave small smiles.

"I apologize for the manners of men." The elf stepped forward with a courteous smile, and, placing a hand on his heart, bowed to her. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood. This is Aragorn, a ranger and my friend, and that is Boromir of Gondor."

She smiled and copied the bow as best she could. "It's an honor to meet you, my Lords." She ignored Boromir, turning instead to the Aragorn and Legolas. "I am Anne, a Lady Knight sent by King Ronald, as requested by Lord Elrond, for a council meeting." Legolas's eyebrows lifted in surprise but it was Aragorn who spoke.

"Have you been informed about the purpose of this council?" He asked carefully.

"No, my Lord. I was sent here with almost no information, other than the fact that I was to stay with a Lord Elrond of Rivendell and attend a council about some…great evil." The man looked particularly grim, but nodded.

"You are a knight?" Boromir wondered, and his incredulous voice irked her. Placing a thumb against a scar on her right palm, she looked up at him, noticing that he had joined the pair by the door, but had moved closer to her.

"I am, my Lord." Special emphasis was placed on 'my Lord' and she hoped he noticed the irritation.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but you seem a bit…young to be a knight." Aragorn spoke up, his tone hesitant. She smiled at him easily.

"That is hardly a statement you need beg my apology for, my Lord. I am not yet 21." They all seemed quite shocked at this, and she wondered at their ages, though she did not ask. "And please, call me Anne. There is no need for this 'my Lady' business. I'm common as dirt, my Lord, hardly worthy of a title." This time the smiles of the pair reached their eyes and they nodded.

"Of course. I am simply Aragorn then, and Prince Legolas will do nicely." The elf gave his companion a sharp look at the teasing, then turned to the distressed girl who was trying to stammer out an apology. He waved it away.

"Please, just Legolas. I am not accustomed to, nor comfortable with, such a formal address among friends." She nodded, still surprised, but relieved at his light tone, and turned to Boromir, who hadn't spoken again. He nodded shortly at her, then turned on his heels and left, obviously unhappy with the present company. She noticed him level a glare at Araorn, who returned it with an empty half smile, and she wondered what could have happened between the two men.

"Well, if you would excuse me, I think I shall search out breakfast." The pair chuckled and Legolas spoke up.

"That is where we were going. You are welcome to join us." Nodding gratefully, she joined the friends on their walk.

"Did you travel far to get here?" Aragorn wondered as they passed through another hallway, then through a large open room.

"Several days on horseback, in my own land, seven on a ship, with only a surly captain and…" She was cut off abruptly as a black blur flew by, circled over, then landed on her shoulder with an affectionate squawk. "Morrigan. Hello." She ran a finger over the bird's feathers, but got no response. Shrugging inwardly, and turned back to her companions. "Then another few days on the road to find Rivendell."

"Did you travel on horseback here?" Aragorn turned to her in surprise, apparently ignoring the presence of the raven.

"Yes…although I had to…find a horse after a day of walking."

"You mean steal?" Legolas had an eyebrow raised in apparent disapproval and she cringed. About to explain, her blunt raven leapt onto his shoulder and tugged his hair sharply, making him wince.

"He was perfectly willing to come, elf. And my Annie girl knows how to treat a horse." The raven snapped, obviously offended. Legolas gave her a careful look, bring up a slow hand to dislodge his hair from the bird's beak.

"Were you aware that this bird…could speak?"

She grinned. "Yea, she'll go on when she feels like it. Now try getting her to shut up. That's the trick." Aragorn snorted and hesitantly stroked the bird on his friend's shoulder.

"How did you come across such a raven?"

"Come across…well I've never! She didn't come across me, you simpleton! I came and found her, and then I chose her. She's special, my Annie girl, even if her aunt…"

"Mori!" Anne made her voice sharp, a sharp flush of humiliation coloring her cheeks. The bird fell silent and she sighed. "They certainly don't want to hear about my aunt, nor how 'special' I am." She continued walking, but not before she caught the elf giving her a long considering look.

Breakfast was a quiet enough affair, but Anne certainly didn't mind, not with the spread of fruits she'd never seen, breads lighter and sweeter than anything she'd ever tasted, and even an oatmeal type dish that made her want do sit around and eat all day. "Forget about this secretive meeting." She told her two companions. "I'm just going to stay in Rivendell forever and eat this food!" Legolas laughed and passed anther piece of fruit her way, while Aragorn fed pieces of the bread and meat to Mori who had taken a liking to his hair.

After she had just about finished, four small figures came into the room. "Hello Frodo. Sam. Merry. Pippin. Take a seat." The group smiled nervously at Aragorn, throwing concerned glances at Legolas and Anne. "This is Legolas of Mirkwook, and Anne, a Lady Knight." She nodded her head courteously as Aragorn introduced them, and the four relaxed a little, two taking seats by Anne and two sitting over by Aragorn. They watched Legolas with a type of fascination and awe that made Anne give him a questioning look. He tried to put them at ease, asking if they were comfortable and passing food over to the four, but none would easily converse with him. Finally, they switched their attention over to Anne, and one (she didn't know their respective names yet) spoke up.

"So…you're a…knight? My Lady." He was quick to add. She grinned and put her glass of whatever wonderful liquid the elf had passed her on the table.

"I am. Lady Anne, though I'd prefer Anne."

"I didn't know women could be knights…" She chuckled when the first who had spoken nudged the other sharply.

"Pippin!" He snapped.

"Ow! Merry!" The other two hobbits gave them exasperated looks and one, the thinner of the two, shot her an apologetic smile. She returned it easily.

"I do not know the customs here, Master Pippin." He blushed a bit at the title, much to her amusement. "But where I am from, women are free to try for their shield…though it is much harder for us than for the boys who try." This caught Aragorn's attention.

"How old do you have to be to train?"

"Eleven. Unless you're a noble's child. Then you can get tutoring from 3 or 4. But I started when I was 11 and earned my shield at seventeen. Are there knights here?"

"It depends on the realm." Legolas answered. "All have armies, and the king may have a special company. But not all have designated knights who are trained to fight from such an early age. Did you have to leave your family?" He wondered.

"Yes. I left before my eleventh birthday, and arrived at the palace on the day."

"Ah. Do you ever visit?" Aragorn asked casually. She stiffened a bit, but hid it quickly.

"Never. I grew up with my aunt and she…died. Soon after I arrived at the palace." Neither said a word, their eyes telling her that they had seen through that particular blatant lie. Luckily they didn't call her out on it. She had no desire to discuss her family with these people, no matter how friendly they may be. Mori chose this moment to leap from Aragorn's shoulder and visit the hobbits, making them laugh and pulling at their hair. She sighed in relief and took another drink, wondering how long until this 'midday meal' and the council she was to attend.


	4. The Council of Elrond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own LOTR...but I do quote it.

Anne stood in the middle of the room, turning this way and that to catch a glimpse of herself in the nearly transparent green dress. It had been a gift from a lady of the court, and the only nice dress she owned, mostly because she hated them. The neckline was too deep, the sleeves barely there, and it only reached her mid calves in the front. She was hardly a modest girl, as she had spent years on the road with men, but this felt worse than changing tunics in the open. And, as she stared at her feet, she realized that boots were the only shoes she had bothered to bring. Shaking her head at her own forgetfulness, she took the belt that went with the dress and tucked the fan into it, then began doing her hair in the only nice style she knew of, a braid coiled at the back of her head.

She had left her companions as they headed for the midday meal, claiming that she wasn't hungry and promising to see them at the council, but honestly she wanted time to collect herself. This was the reason she had come, but she still had no idea what was expected of her. A soft knock on the door interrupted her musings, and she opened it a crack. The most beautiful woman…no, she corrected herself sharply, elf, she had ever seen in her life smiled at her from the hall. "Um…hello, my Lady." She sad softly, opening the door and stepping back.

"Hello Anne. I am Arwen. My father sent me to see if you needed anything before the council meeting." Arwen's eyes lingered on her bare feet for only a second, then came back to meet her eyes.

"I…I seem to have forgotten my shoes." Anne felt her face heat up and thanked the goddess Ren was always going on about that Arwen didn't laugh, only smiled softly.

"I am sure I have a pair you can use." She reassured the girl. "Is there anything else?"

"Can…can you tell me what this meeting is about?" Arwen paused, looking into her eyes and sighing softly.

"I am afraid that I cannot. I will return shortly." She nodded to the girl and disappeared down the hallway. Anne leaned against the doorframe with a huff.

'Does anyone know what this meeting is about?' She wondered irritably.

The lady, who had revealed herself to be the daughter of Elrond, much to Anne's surprise and dismay ('I can't believe I asked the lady of the house to fetch me shoes!') showed her the way to the location for the meeting, which turned out to be a large balcony overlooking the city, nestled among waterfalls. Stone chairs were set up in a circle around what looked to be a stone pedestal, and were filled with elves, who she was finally starting to recognize on sight, a few men, short, bearded men that she suspected might be dwarves, a tall robed man with a pointed hat (she guessed he was a wizard, but didn't look like any of the wizards from her home) and the hobbit she recognized as Frodo. Thanking lady Arwen for her help, she stepped onto the balcony and looked for a chair, Mori sitting primly on her shoulder. She found Legolas sitting among some other elves and smiled hesitantly at him. He caught her eye and smiled reassuringly, then motioned toward a chair beside Aragorn. She nodded in thanks and joined the dark haired man who greeted her with a nod.

Glancing over at Frodo, she gave him a smile, which he returned with a preoccupied nod, and she then found herself being watched by the tall man in gray robes beside him. Hesitantly, she smiled, but he only watched her closely. Then, turning back towards the men and elves, she realized that most of those present were also watching her, their eyes revealing a mixture of confusion, surprise, and even irritation. She realized she must look a sight, a young woman in a dress among men (well...males), a raven on her shoulder. "Is she an elf?" She heard one dwarf whisper to the dwarf on his right, and blushed softly, feeling all eyes on her.

"No…doesn't have the ears."

"What does she think she's doing here?" Another dwarf whispered.

"Obviously she was invited by Lord Elrond." The sharp voice belonged to an elf sitting closest to the dwarves, and she clenched her hands in her lap and stared at them, feeling more and more conspicuous by the second, and too embarrassed to thank whoever had stood up for her. Taking her mind off the others, she turned toward Lord Elrond. He looked even more regal in the light of day, but today his eyes were grim. She glanced over at Aragorn who seemed ill at ease as well.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old…" Anne looked up as everyone was suddenly silent. "You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." She glanced over at Aragorn in confusion, but he was staring at Lord Elrond, as was everyone. Forcing herself to be patient, she sat back and listened. "Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall." She grimaced.

'What kind of council is this? Are they going to war?'

"Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo." She watched in surprise as the hobbit from breakfast stood and walked hesitantly to the center pedestal, then carefully placed a little gold ring in the center, then walked back to his seat in obvious relief. Staring incredulously at the innocent looking gold ring for a moment, she then glanced around in obvious disbelief.

'Is this a joke? Are these people insane? It's a gold ring…like a wedding band. My aunt had one that looked just like it.' But everyone looked frightened, even sick, when they looked at this seemingly harmless piece of jewelry.

"So it is true…" Boromir whispered. She turned to him, hoping maybe he would speak up and explain what everyone seemed to be thinking. He stood slowly, taking a deep breath. "It is a gift. A gift from the foes of Mordor! Why not use this ring!? Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your land kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" For a moment, Anne wanted to nod. Weapons from the enemy were often put to good use. But by the look on the faces of the elves, and of Aragorn, she felt it safe to assume that this was different.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can!" Aragorn's clear voice sounded in the quiet. "The one ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir turned to Aragorn with a nasty look.

Legolas shot up, irritation obvious in his clear blue eyes. "This is no mere ranger. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Anne stared at Legolas, suddenly able to clearly see that this was a prince, then gave Aragorn a bewildered look but all the focus was on Boromir, Aragorn, and Legolas's conversation.

"This…is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked breathlessly. Aragorn gave a short nod.

"An heir to the throne of Gondor." Anne turned to Aragorn in shock.

'He's…the heir to a throne. I've been talking to a prince and a king all morning…and treating them as common as I am.' Shame washed over her for a moment. Mori tugged her braid, and then spoke so only she could hear.

"I knew as soon as I met him." Unable to refute that claim, or question the bird in the midst of all these people, she bit her tongue and continued to listen as Aragorn put up a hand and said something to Legolas, who started at him for a moment, then sat down reluctantly.

Boromir recovered quickly and leveled a glare first at Legolas who only liften an eyebrow, and then at Aragorn. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." He spoke quietly as he sat, staring directly at Aragorn.

"Aragorn is right." The wizard spoke up. "We cannot use it."

Lord Elrond leaned forward. "You have only one choice. The ring must be destroyed." Anne lifted an eye, wondering how it could have taken so long to come to that conclusion, but once again, kept quiet, fingering the scar on her palm. Keeping quiet had been one of the hardest lessons, but her aunt had been sure that she learned it quickly. Still, everyone else seemed rather put off by Lord Elrond's statement, and there was a great deal of anxiety among the group. That is, until one dwarf with long red hair and a long matching beard, stood up with his axe.

"What are we waiting for?" He growled, stepping forward. Seeing the alarmed look on Lord Elrond's face, Anne half stood to stop him, feeling that there was no way it would be this simple, but Aragorn caught her arm, and he was already raising his axe over his head, the blade coming down on the ring, and then shattering. The dwarf was thrown back, and Anne fell back in her seat in surprise, feeling Aragorn release her arm.

'No piece of gold should be able to withstand that without even a scratch, but the ring sat just the same in the middle on the pedestal. A whispering, terrible voice reached her ears, and Mori screeched in displeasure. "This is sorcery." She whispered, scooting back in her chair, as if to get away from the evil ring. Aragorn nodded, and started to speak, but Lord Elrond was speaking once again.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it been unmade." Anne's eyes widened.

'That doesn't sound good...I certainly don't want to go to a place called 'Mount Doom...isn't that in Mordor?' She tried to recall the map that sat in her room.

"It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." That statement was met with dead silence.

'That…is a long walk…even on a horse.' Anne looked around. No one else seemed taken with the idea either.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Boromir whispered, lifting his head from his hand. Everyone turned to him, most with looks of wariness. Its black gates are guarded with more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great eye is ever watchful."

Annie felt herself go pale. 'The great eye?'

"It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly."

Once again, Legolas jumped from his seat. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed!" He cried.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" The dwarf Gimli cried. Anne looked over in shock as Legolas gave him an irritated frown.

'Does the dwarf know who he's talking to?'

"And if we fail? What then?" Boromir stood as well. "What happens when Saruon takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf!" At Gimli's pronouncement, the entire group of elves jumped to their feet, followed by the dwarves, and she could make out none of the conversation, but saw Legolas stick out an arm to keep one of his companions back as he shouted at the dwarves. "No one trust an elf!" Anne turned to Aragorn incredulously, but just sighed and sat back, watching at the noise level rose. Soon, the wizard stood and began speaking in sharp tones to Boromir who glared and snapped back at him.

She took a step closer to the dwarves and elves, wondering if she could help restore some kind of peace, but very much doubting it. "Honestly!" She cried amidst the shouting. She stood by one of the elves and faced the dwarves. "What are you getting accomplished by shouting at one another?"

The dwarf Gimli looked up at her and clenched his fists. "And who do you think you are? It has yet to be seen why you are even here!"

"I was invited!" She snapped. "I'm a knight."

"Ha! A little girl becoming a knight!" Another dwarf laughed nastily, and almost against her will her hand went down to grasp her fan, unfurling it in a swift motion and towering over the dwarf in irritation.

"I beg your pardon?" She snarled, blood boiling.

"A fan! You're going to threaten me with a fan!? What do you think you're going to do with that?" He brandished his large axe, and she knew she had no choice of beating that. Still, her pride would not let her step down from such an obvious challenge, and she stepped forward menacingly.

Tilting the fan so that the light bounced off the razor edge, she lifted her arm. "I'll show you what I'll do with it, you nasty little…" She was cut off by a hand grasping her arm, and realized that the elves were stepping between them, still shouting at the dwarves, but keeping her from attacking the dwarf, and the dwarf from slicing her in half with his axe. Rolling her eyes, she snapped the fan shut and placed it in her belt, pulling away from the restraining arm. Leaving the circle of shouting dwarves and elves, and avoiding one of Boromir's more boisterous hand gestures as he fought with the wizard, she stopped beside the ring to look at it up close, keeping her hands at her sides, and then turned to Lord Elrond, who was watching the fiasco with a sigh.

He met her eyes for a moment, and she saw great weariness there. Standing, she started to make her way over to where he sat, about to tell him that she had no place among these people, but she noticed Frodo standing at the edge of the group.

"I will take it!" He cried. She stared at him in surprise, though only she and Lord Elrond heard him. She placed a hand against her mouth.

'He can't…he's…so small. And….honestly among all these warriors, he's the only one brave enough?'

"I will take it! I will take the ring to Mordor." Slowly, everyone stopped shouting and turned to the hobbit. "Though…I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Anne felt a sharp tug at her braid, and knew that a bit of it was coming loose thanks to her raven friend.

Aragorn stood and walked over to Frodo. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He knelt in front of the hobbit solemnly. "You have my sword."

"They'll need help Anne girl." Mori stated softly, tugging her hair again.

"And you have my bow." Legolas stated, stepping forward and standing beside the wizard.

"See, your friend is going." Anne sighed.

"And my axe." Legolas gave a pained look when the dwarf stepped forward to stand beside him, and Anne nearly laughed.

"Oh very well." She whispered before the bird could prompt her again.

"You carry the fate of us all little one." Boromir stepped forward and she almost changed her mind. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

Anne stepped forward, eyes only on Frodo, for she knew that if she, a common girl who had scrambled her way into knighthood, looked into the eyes of these great men and warriors, she would never have the courage to speak up. "I did not come all this way to sit idly by. You are the bravest creature I've ever met, Frodo Baggins." She said simply, smiling at him. Kneeling before the hobbit, she looked into his eyes seriously. "If it is protection you need, you certainly have mine, if you would like it." The hobbit hesitated not a second before smiling gratefully and nodding. She stood and took her place beside the dwarf, hands crossed in front of her, as she realized what she had just done.

"Hey!" She jumped at the noise from the bushes. "Mister Frodo's not goin' anywhere without me!" The larger of the hobbits cried as he jumped between Aragorn and Legolas, and under Aragorn's arm, to stand by Frodo.

Lord Elrond looked amused rather than put off. "No indeed it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret meeting and you are not." Anne grinned into her hand as Frodo stepped over to make room for his friend.

"Oi! We're coming too!" Merry emerged from the doorway and, followed by Pippin, ran over to where Frodo stood. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" The wizard looked rather resigned to a terrible fate, and shook his head at Lord Elrond.

"Anyway!" Pippin cried. "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest….thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip." Anne covered her laughter with a hand, but was nearly undone when she saw Aragorn and Legolas doing the same.

Lord Elrond considered them for a moment, his eyes resting briefly on Anne. "Ten companions….So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Right…" Pippin spoke up. "So where are we going?"


	5. Formal Introductions

Anne stood in her room, staring out the balcony window idly. 'What have I just agreed to do?' She had ripped the dress off as soon as she reached her room, changing into her tunic and hose, and had placed the shoes by the door. "Mori!" She cried, as she was wont to do when she needed advice. "What did I just do!?" The bird perched on her shoulder and made the purring noise that always calmed her down, then nipped at her hair.

"You know what you did, Anne girl." The bird told her simply. "You did what was right. He needs as much protection as he can get."

"But I'm sure they don't want…"

"Who!" The bird snapped, nipping her ear harder than necessary. "I thought you were doing this to protect the hobbit." She bit her lip, and then sighed.

"You're right…as always." She crossed her arms and stared at the waterfall outside, as if it would tell her the answers to her problems.

"And you're a knight Anne. Make sure they know it." Anne swiped at her eye, forcing the fear and homesickness back. It wasn't just the prospect of a cross country quest with people who didn't want her around that bothered her. The thought of being away from her home for so long…without any guarantee of returning…that was the really scary part. 'I want to be a great knight…the greatest in the realm. I want to protect people.' She told herself harshly. 'That's enough moping around.'

She turned to Mori. "Oh, they'll know it." She grinned at the bird and kissed her on the head. "You're the best friend I could ask for, Mori." She whispered. "I'm glad you're with me."

There was a dinner that night, held by Lord Elrond, especially for the members of the Fellowship. Anne had no plans to attend, that is, until Mori pecked her neck and bit her ear and pulled her hair, and Anne promised to throw her out the window a few times, that she finally consented to go. Grumbling about interfering birds and royal banquets, she pulled her hair down and into a normal braid that fell down her back. In anticipation of meeting the annoying dwarf again, which was pretty much a guarantee, she tucked her dagger into her belt, and another into her boot. The fan remained in her belt, and the spiked strap was woven into her braid. He would learn not to threaten her. And hopefully Boromir would be placated to see that she had the weapons of a real warrior.

Mori flew over to her shoulder, and Anne opened the door, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hall. Assuming that it would be in the same place as breakfast, she followed the corridors and hallways that she had walked with Legolas (A prince) and Aragorn (the heir to a throne…she was still cringing over that one) and came to the large dining hall. The room was full, and there was a large table in the middle where the hobbits, along with Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, Gimli, and the wizard whose name she had not yet learned, were all eating and having conversation. She could also hear singing and shouting. The kinsmen of the fellowship stopped by every once in a while, bidding them farewell, Anne assumed, or wishing them luck.

Losing her courage immediately, she began to take a step back when one of the hobbits caught sight of her. Pippin half stood in his seat and called out to her. "My Lady!" He cried. "Come join us! There's plenty of food!" Unable to hold back a rueful grin, she strolled over, taking a seat at the end of the table beside Pippin and across from Gimli, feeling the eyes of the whole table on her. "We haven't properly met!" He cried, and Anne caught a whiff of his breath, realizing immediately that he had been drinking.

Aragorn passed her a plate full of samples of all of the food, and she managed to thank him before Pippin had thrown his arm around her back (the highest point he could reach) and was pointing out people. "I'm Pippin of course. And this is my cousin, Merry." Merry, obviously not as drunk as his friend, grinned at her apologetically. "And that's Frodo, and Sam, his gardener." She greeted them with a smile. "And this is Gimli. He's a dwarf!"

Remembering vividly how rude he had been to her, she frowned a bit. "It's an honor to meet you, Lord Gimli." She said, her voice frosty. She caught him wince a little at the chill, but he nodded.

"My Lady."

"And this is Boromir."

"Hello again, my Lady." He reached out a hand to take hers, and she gave it, assuming that he would shake it, but blushing a bit when he kissed it.

She lifted a surprised eyebrow. He was obviously making an effort at courtesy, so she would do the same. "Hello my Lord."

"That's Strider…or Aragorn. He's the one that helped us get here." Aragorn she greeted with a true smile and nod, which he returned.

"And that's Legolas. He's an Elfish prince!" Anne cringed. As if she could forget. Still, she smiled at the elf that was smirking at her discomfort.

"Hello Legolas."

"And, finally, Gandalf. He's a great wizard."

'So my guess was correct.' "It's an honor, Master Gandalf."

"Now aren't you going to introduce yourself?" She smirked and slipped out from his arm.

"But you were doing so well, Master Pippin." He blushed a bit, and turned to Merry.

"I think she fancies me." He whispered so that everyone at the table could hear. Merry put a hand on his face and sighed while Anne did her best not to blush.

"Very well. It's nice to meet all of you. I'm Anne Woods."

"Woods? Is that your father's name?" Boromir wanted to know.

"I haven't the slightest idea. I never met him. I was born in the woods, and my mother lived there until she died, leaving me with my aunt. So my aunt may have just come up with it."

"So you're common." Gimli stated.

"As dirt. And probably illegitimate too, Master dwarf. Any more personal questions?" There was an awkward silence, and she regretted letting her temper run away with her. Taking a long drink from her cup, she nearly spit it out when it contained the same spirits as Pippin had obviously been drowning in. Wincing as she swallowed, she coughed at the strong taste, and managed a 'thank you' when someone pressed a glass into her hand. Taking a drink of what thankfully turned out to be water, she coughed a few more times then sat it down, face flushed.

"Do you not care for strong drink, my lady?" Boromir wondered. Placing a finger against the scar on her palm, a reminder to keep her temper under control, she forced a smile and courteous tone.

"You really can call me Anne. And not at all, my Lord." He and Gimli had not given her permission to use their names informally, but she wondered if the entire trip would be full of 'my Lords.' "My aunt was quite fond of the drink, but I cannot abide it."

"Hm." Boromir took a long drink from his own cup, and Anne decided to focus on her food rather than the annoying man who somehow managed to offend her when he wasn't even speaking.

The hobbits began talking amongst themselves, and Anne listened to Mori chatter, until Gandalf suddenly sat down his cutlery and turned to Anne.

"Where are you from?" He asked, and dead silence fell. Chewing her food, and then swallowing quickly, she took a sip of water and turned to him.

"Somewhere quite far away. Lord Elrond sent word to my King that there was to be a council meeting and he asked me to come."

"By yourself?" Gandalf lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm a knight. We're often sent on quests by ourselves." She told him simply, her thumb rubbing against the scar on her hand once more, missing the eyes of the elf as they followed the action of her hands. Mori chose that moment to leap from her shoulder and fly over to Gandalf, who suddenly stared at the bird in shock. "My apologies. That is Morrigan. She's my friend." 'My friend who often has conversations with people that I can't hear.' She grumbled internally. "So when do we set off?"

"At daybreak." Aragorn answered, then turned to the rest of the table. "Everyone, you should only pack what you can carry. We will have a pony, but with ten of us, we cannot overload him. Gandalf will be leading us." Gandalf nodded to the raven who then flew over to Legolas and tugged at his hair gently, then began to eat his food.

"Honestly, you bloody bird. I'm going to make you into pie if you don't leave his food alone." She cried, exasperated and embarrassed. "Would you show off your manners for once." Legolas grinned, feeding the bird a piece of meat.

"I don't mind. I was finished anyway." Soon everyone was charmed by her little pest, and were feeding her bits of food from their own plates. But it was Legolas with whom she spent most of her time with that night. Anne was not sure if Morri was talking to him, but by the way he kept glancing at her and nodding seriously, she was assuming the answer was yes. Fed up with mysteries for the day, she turned back to picking at her food, leaving everyone else to their conversations, even her mysterious bird.

She hated eating before setting off on a journey. The food, no matter how well cooked, tended to taste like dirt, and sat like a lump of mud in her stomach. She nibbled at the bread and listened to the talk. Aragorn and Boromir were mumbling about something entirely uninteresting, and Gimli was talking to Gandalf about a place called Moria. Thinking back, she tried to place the name, when it came to her. The mine. But Gimli wanted to go through there was a mystery to her. She wasn't fond of going underground. Merry and Pippin were having an increasingly incoherent conversation, but Frodo sat staring into his empty plate.

"Are you alright, Frodo?" She asked quietly. He glanced up at her with a forced smile.

"Fine." He answered simply, but there was gratitude in his eyes, as if he had wondered if anyone would notice his discontent.

"Excited about such a great adventure?" She teased. He grinned.

"Hardly. It will be quite a long trip, and honestly I think I'd rather go home."

She smirked. "And I as well. I'll miss my home."

"What is it like? This faraway place where you live?"

"Oh…it's beautiful. Well…. some of it. I live at the palace."

"Really? I didn't think you were royalty…didn't you say you were common born?"

"Oh yes. I was born a commoner. But when I began to train for my shield, I moved into the palace with the other pages. My friend Ron and I trained together…well he was two years ahead of me. But it was hard to find friends there at first. Still, I did eventually start to fit in there, and now I wouldn't trade it for anything. Most knights have quarters at the palace, and I use mine year round."

"Really? I was brought up by my uncle, and lived near him when he lived in the Shire. Do you never miss your family?"

"My mother died so long ago I don't remember her, and I never met my father. I grew up with my aunt…but I never visit her." She felt Legolas and Aragorn staring at her, then remembered that she had told them that the woman was dead. She swore under her breath as she took a drink of water, wondering why the hobbits hadn't remembered that her aunt was supposed to be dead. 'Maybe they weren't listening this morning.'

"Do you never get time off to go visit?"

"Hm? Oh, it's not that." She told Sam, who had entered the conversation. "We just never really got on." The scar on her palm felt raw from so much rubbing, so she forced one of her hands away to clench her tunic in her lap, and the other to take another drink from the glass of water. (The one with the spirits had long since been polished off by Pippin.)

"Do you have any siblings?" Sam asked.

"Not anymore." She shrugged. "I had a brother, when I was really little. But he died only a few years after our mother. It's pretty much just me now." She was surprised to see the hobbits look quite sad.

"That's awful." Merry said softly, apparently sober enough to listen in. The others were watching now as well, thoughtful looks on their faces.

She forced a light laugh. "Goodness everyone. No need to feel sorry for me. I've tons of friends at the palace, and you can't exactly miss what you don't remember. What about you?" She turned to Frodo, the only one who wasn't watching her with pity. "Do you have any other family?"

"My parents died when I was young, and I was brought up by my Uncle, Bilbo. He's here, in Rivendell."

"Ah. Did you come with you?"

"No…he came here first. We came with Aragorn." She nodded at the reminder, then started to ask about his own family.

"Well." Aragorn spoke up before she could. "We should probably all get to bed. We have an early start tomorrow, and a long day ahead of us." Anne nodded and, excusing herself from the table first, left.

"What about your bird?" Sam called, for Morri was still cleaning Legolas's plate. Anne grinned.

"She knows the way to my room." She called over her shoulder, leaving the boisterous room for the solitude of her room. Whatever that raven was getting up to, Anne wasn't sure she even wanted to know.

That evening after the dinner, one of the elves came by her room and asked if she needed anything. She asked wehre the baths were, and the she-elf directed her down the hall to the women's baths. Bringing along a change of clothes, she entered the warm room full of large baths, and sliped into the hot water. After washing, she relaxed in the beautiful room with a view of the lights of Rivendell for a while, knowing that this would be the last time she would have any luxury in her life for a long while. This is where Morri found her an hour later.

"What were you talking to Gandalf about?" She wondered, stroking the feathers of her friend. If birds could smirk, this one did. "Fine. What about Legolas?" Once again the bird was silent. "Is this going to effect me in any way?" The bird chucked, a strange, cawing sound. "Oh forget it. I'll worry tomorrow. I'm off to bed. We have an early day tomorrow." Climbing out of the bath, she dried off and changed into her night clothes, then made her way back to her rooms through the, thankfully empty, hall.


	6. The Start of a Journey

Anne was brought back to consciousness rudely by a peck on the face. Swatting the bird away, she sat up and threw the covers off, ignoring the squawk of protest from the bird as she scrambled to escape from the avalanche of blankets and pillows. "Well aren't we cheerful this morning." The bird snapped irritably.

"The suns not even up!" She snapped, shoving the rest of the blankets off of her and standing with a groan. Stretching and yawning, she made her way over to the basin of water and threw it on her face, shuddering as it dripped down her shirt. "I hate mornings." She snarled. Of course, Mori was well aware of this, and had been since their first morning together when sixteen year old Anne, after an overly exuberant morning greeting, had thrown her out the window and promptly locked it. The girl had half heartedly (you can certainly fly, you bloody bird) apologized, but Mori was typically careful after that, especially on mornings when Anne had a quest to go on, or a task to accomplish. Nerves did not mix well with tiredness. Still, the bird could understand the girl's temper, considering her upbringing, though Mori never brought it up.

After washing her face and cleaning her teeth, Anne dressed in her regular tunic and hose, throwing two changes of clothes, the cotton pads, and her two water flasks into a small pack she could easily wear on her back. For the first time since arriving at Rivendell, she placed her sword on her belt, along with her dagger, then placed her cloak over her back. The blades went in her boot once again, and the spiked strap, a favorite among the Lady Knights who liked to wear their hair normally, was woven seamlessly into her hair. A change of underclothes also went into the bag, and an extra dagger. She wished for her bow, or even her glaive, but those would be cumbersome to carry along with a sword and pack, and she didn't have the luxury of a horse…and speaking of horses….

Hurrying along the path to the stables, she arrived as quickly as her legs would carry her, hoping she hadn't offended any of the elves she had nearly run over. One of the elves who had taken the horses the day before stood in the aisle way, his hand on a horse's neck, and turned. "Can I help you?" He asked softly, in that melodic voice all elves seemed to posses.

"Yes, my Lord. The horse, Silver, who I arrived on…he doesn't belong to me. There's a little town…if you just follow the river to the shore. It's the last one you'll come to. He belongs to them, my Lord. Is there any way he can be returned?" The elf was looking at her strangely.

"You do realize that stealing a horse is a serious offense…"

"Yes my Lord. And I would have never done it if it hadn't been necessary…but he was willing to come…oh blast it I haven't got much time." She cried, throwing her hands in the air. "Please…I'll compensate them or whatever they ask….and you too….only I need to be sure he gets home. I can't take him now."

"Why not just return him when you get back from your journey, my Lady?"

A deep unease unfurled in her stomach and she swallowed a sour taste in the back of her throat. "I'm going on quite a long trip, my Lord. And there's no guarantee I'll return." Even as she said that, goosebumps rose on her arms, as if someone had just walked across her grave. "I'm so sorry to ask this of you. But please…make sure he's returned home." The elf gave her a grave look.

"Of course, my Lady."

"My name's Anne." She said as she turned to leave. 'And I don't know what I think I'm doing. Dear goddess Ron's always on about, I hope you have a hand in all this…and that I come out no worse for wear.'

The rest of the fellowship was assembling near the city gates. She arrived at the same time as Merry and Pippin who, along with Sam, were carrying large packs, although none were as large as Sam's. A shaggy brown pony was loaded with bags, and she assumed they belonged to Frodo, Gimli, or Legolas, for they didn't seem to carry anything but their weapons. Anne adjusted the weight on her back, knowing that she could carry this light pack comfortably for hours, especially without her usual armor. This didn't help ease her mind very much, but she knew that going the whole way to Mordor on foot while wearing such heavy armor would be worse than having none; she'd certainly never make it. For a minute, she stared longingly at Legolas's bow. It was a longbow, expertly carved, and she wondered if he would let her try it out sometime.

The others either nodded in greeting (the hobbits, along with Aragorn and Legolas) or ignored her, obviously tired as well, which was fine by her. She didn't like coffee and she didn't fully wake up until around 9 am, so she had a while before she was fit to be social. Mori landed silently on her shoulder as Gandalf spoke quietly to the hobbits. "Go ride the pony, you bloody bird." She muttered irritably. Turning her head skyward in exasperation at her inconsiderate and abusive friend, the bird did so.

"His name's Bill." Anne glanced up to find Sam starting at her. "The pony." He clarified. "He's ours." Lifting an eyebrow, she nodded.

"Noted. Mori, ride Bill." She tightened her belt a bit, glad she hadn't attempted breakfast, then leaned against the pony, waiting for her nerves to settle.

The only one of them that seemed fully awake and in high spirits was Legolas. As she leaned against the pony, he went over and greeted her with a cheerful good morning and asked how she slept, all whilst she hoped this wasn't a habit of his. "Good morning. Fine." She mumbled, leaning against the pony and closing her eyes. He laughed brightly, and then moved on to speak to Aragorn. 'Ugh. A morning person.' She thought irritably.

They finally set off after about a half hour, with Gandalf leading the way, Legolas close behind, then Gimli, Boromir, the hobbits who traveled in pairs or in a big lump, then Anne, and Aragorn brought up the rear. Glad to be moving, Anne let the morning air rouse her, and the sun woke her up better than cold water on her face. It was relatively warm outside, and the cloak she wore over her back began getting too warm. Finally she removed the pendant at her throat and removed the heavy cloth as she walked, rolling it up and shoving it in her pack. The sun beat down on the group as they walked, and around midday the hobbits began to lag. Anne began to overtake them, and walked beside Frodo for a while. Merry and Pippin kept up a stream of chatter that was less annoying now that they were sober and she was wide awake.

"And I told him to stick it in the ground!" Merry cried, coming to the end of a long line of anecdotes.

"I did stick it in the ground!" Pippin cried in exasperation. Anne giggled.

"Outside!"

"So you blew up a house!?" She cried incredulously.

"Not a house…just a tent…"

"And the rest of the fireworks."

"And they nearly killed everyone at the party." Frodo piped up, chuckling. "It was a flaming dragon." Anne laughed.

"A dragon? How did you get fireworks shaped like a flaming dragon?!"

"Gandalf makes the best fireworks of anyone!" Sam said with a grin.

"It's true." Aragorn caught up with them, glancing down at Frodo and then meeting her eyes. "Gandalf is famous throughout Middle Earth for his fireworks."

"Among other things I would hope." He chuckled.

"Quite a few other things actually. He's one of the greatest wizards alive."

"I've known quite a few wizards, but none quite like him."

"Really? What are the wizards from your realm like?"

"Well, they're mostly quite young…. the best anyway. Some my age. The oldest I know is only in his 80's and…I think that Gandalf is quite a bit older."

Aragorn snorted. "Most here are. Gandalf is the oldest of us all, and Legolas is over 500 years old." Anne stilled, staring at Aragorn.

"Over….over 500….years!" She cried. Legolas glanced back and snorted. "He…how…."

Aragorn grinned. "Elves do not age like us mortals do." He answered simply.

"Mortals…you mean elves are immortal?"

"Basically yes."

"He…I must seem like an infant to him!" She cried. Legolas chuckled up ahead of her.

"Indeed. You are all children to me, except Gandalf, and he's nearly immortal himself."

"Wizards are immortal here?"

"They are not where you come from?" Gandalf wondered.

"No…just normal humans with the Gift…no…I mean….not that you aren't…normal?" She trailed off with a shake of her head at the smiles on Legolas and Gandalf's faces. "Anyway, we have immortals where I live, only I'm almost certain we don't have elves. But we have centaurs, spidrens, griffins, stormwings…even dragons."

The group was giving her strange looks as they came to a stop. Gandalf led them to a rocky area where they would rest for a few minutes, and for Anne, it wasn't a minute too soon. "Centaurs…you mean half man and half horse?" Boromir asked as they were all sitting down in a circle. Sam began to make a small fire where she assumed that he would cook whatever food he had brought.

"Hm?" She looked up from where Sam was cooking. "Yes. Mean too, most of them, though they keep to their herds for the most part. But they're hard to fight. Never forget about the back legs. They can break a man's back. Broke some of my ribs once. A lot of the immortals are friendly, or don't bother humans at all. Stormwings only go after the dead, though some take objection to that. But I think spidrens are the worst."

"Spidrens?" Gimli plopped down across from her, and Legolas sat on the rock next to her, having first looked around to make sure they were in a safe area.

"They're giant spiders with heads like a man, but with sharp teeth. They usually use axes, and are known for hunting at night. They go after villages sometimes, and knights are called in to deal with the problem."

"By yourselves?" Legolas asked.

"Well, the first time I went I was a squire; it was just me, my knight commander, another knight, and his squire, Ron. Then I went a few more times with other knights, and most recently I led my company to the border where they were hiding in the forests."

"You lead a company?" Boromir asked incredulously. Her thumb found it's way to the scar on her palm and she forced a pleasant tone.

"Yes. For a year now. They'll be assigned a new commander until I return." She told him simply, putting an end to the conversation abruptly. "How long do you think we'll be able to travel today?" She asked Gandalf.

"Until nightfall. I think we should set up camp then…it would do us no good to travel if would could not see to defend ourselves."

Soon the hobbits began eating, offering food to everyone else, most of whom refused. Anne though hadn't eaten since the previous day, and accepted a plate of what appeared to be bacon and sausage. Nibbling at the dubiously greasy food, she took a long drink of her water and sat back, letting her feet hang off the rocks. They already ached and she kicked them against the rocks, glad that she had gotten in the habit of stretching and exercising even when she wasn't on any kind of quest. Otherwise her muscles would be aching even worse now.

After resting for about an hour Gandalf stood with a grunt, leaning on his staff, something Anne suspected was mostly for show. The rest followed suit, as the hobbits picked up their bags and put out the fire. Pulling her pack back on her back, she stretched and leapt to her feet, ready to set off again.

That evening they stopped once again to make camp. Anne smiled as the hobbits threw themselves on the ground, apparently not accustomed to so much walking. The others grinned as well, stepping around them without complaint. There was no shelter around for a few more miles, so they set out bedrolls, which were apparently what was stored on Bill the Pony. There was one for everyone, and they set up in a circle, and Aragorn volunteered to take the first watch. Next would be Boromir, then Gimli, Anne volunteered for the next to last watch, her least favorite, and then Legolas would take the last watch. They agreed that they would switch off every night so that no one would get too tired. The hobbits began cooking again over a low fire while the others sat on their bedrolls, mostly smoking. Anne waved Pippin's offer of a pipe away and lay back on the thin cloth, easily able to feel the chill of the ground beneath her back.

"Why don't you help with the cooking?" Anne closed her eyes, sincerely hoping that Boromir wasn't speaking to her. There was a tense silence. "My Lady?" Sighing, she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"My name is Anne, Boromir. We're apparently going to working together for quite some time, so you'd might as well use it." She spoke tersely. "And why don't you help with the cooking? I wasn't aware they needed any help, but certainly you, who is so much more experienced and wiser than I am, can help prepare a meal." The hobbits watched her anxiously, obviously wondering if she was going to snap. Rolling her eyes, she turned to the hobbits. "Would you like some help Sam?" She asked softly. He shook his head.

"We've got it, my L…Anne." She snorted.

"Any more questions, Boromir?" She turned back to the sour faced man who was, surprisingly enough, smiling in amusement, rather than glaring in annoyance like she had been expecting. She was dismayed to find that he was a bit more difficult to hate when he was smiling like that. Disarmed, she let the smirk fall from her face.

"None." He laughed. "My apologies, my Lady." This time, his voice was teasing, and she rolled her eyes. She'd dealt with her share of teasing men, and they were typically more pleasant and easier to deal with than the jerks.

'Maybe he'll stick to teasing for a little while.' She'd known several men who went from teasing to grudging respect. 'Maybe there's hope for Boromir.' Grinning at the sky, she closed her eyes and felt Mori come over and nestle next to her neck.

This time, a hand on her shoulder woke her. Jerking into action, she closed her finger against the dagger she kept by her side when she went on any king of quest, and held it to the intruder's neck. Her eyes adjusted and she let go with a gasp, then dropped the dagger. "Gimli!" She whispered to the wide-eyed dwarf.

"Your turn for watch, lassie." He whispered, a bit shakily. She nodded, still guilty, but he didn't seem interested in any apologies. Rubbing at his neck where the dagger had been, he crawled into his bedroll. Groaning quietly, she crawled out of her own bedroll and crawled to the top of one of the rocks overlooking the circle of the fellowship. It was as quiet as it ever got outside, the only noise was the occasional chirp of a bird, and the constant hum of the insects.

She scanned the area, keeping her back to the circle of her sleeping companions. After waiting for a few minutes, she stood and, dagger in hand, silently stood and made her way around the circle, keeping a sharp lookout by using the giant stones as a footpath. After checking the perimeter, she sat back on her rock again, feeling the cold slowly seep through her body. Every ten minutes she did the same, making rounds, then sitting back down, keeping her ears peeled for any unusual noise. So after a few rounds, she jumped out of her skin when a hand touched her shoulder. Whirling, she pulled out her dagger and grabbed the hand, about to scream when a hand covered her mouth. She started to scream when there was a mouth next to her ear.

"Anne!" It whispered urgently. She froze, then relaxed, easing her grip on the arm and turning to find a fair face next to hers.

"What is with you people and sneaking up on me?" She snarled. Legolas rubbed his wrist and shook his head with a rueful smile, and she realized that she hadn't apologized.

"Sorry." She mumbled, placing the dagger back into her belt.

"No…that was impressive. I shouldn't have scared you. Good night." She bid him goodnight and climbed off the rock, then climbed into her bedroll, knowing already that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

She realized that she must have dozed lightly for a while, because the next time she opened her eyes it was lighter outside, and there was smoke in the air. She started to jump up, but soon smelled the bacon that the hobbits were always cooking, and relaxed, closing her eyes once again. In her travels with all sorts of people, she had learned that the best time to eavesdrop was when everyone thought you were asleep.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" She jumped when something was dropped on top of her. Sitting up, she glared down at the hunk of cloth on her lap, then at Boromir's retreating back. Deciding to teach him the same lesson she had taught Ron about messing with her in the morning, she reached over and selected a smooth stone, then, pulling her arm back, hurled it at his back. He yelped in surprise, and then turned in indignant shock, but she was already on her feet, rolling up her bedroll and strapping it to the pony.


	7. A Competition

One day, after nearly two weeks of traveling, they came to a rocky field where they stopped for a rest. The hobbits, now a little better accustomed to traveling, jumped right to starting a fire. Boromir and Aragorn had taken to hunting for their meals during breaks in the long trek, and were sometimes joined by Legolas who usually managed to outdo the two men. Legolas had also brought along some excellent tasting bread that Anne sometimes ate by itself, even refusing to share with Morri if she was particularly hungry, which usually resulted in the shameless bird begging some off of the elf. Gimli generally helped Anne unload the pony and put out the bedrolls when they stopped for the night, but for now they just placed the packs on the ground to give the shaggy little horse a rest.

"Are we there yet?" Anne laughed as Mori drooped on her shoulder.

"Idiot bird. You've been riding the pony all day!" Still, she brought a hand up to stroke her feathers, scratching a bit behind her head where she liked the best.

"Where'd you get her?" Pippin asked suddenly. It was rare that any of the hobbits spoke to the others, but on occasion one of them, usually Pippin, would speak up. Anne walked over to where the hobbits were gathered around the fire, holding out pieces of leftover meat from the morning. Gathering a couple of sticks, she helped feed the fire and sat down between Frodo and Pippin.

"I didn't 'get' her." She told the four. "She showed up one day and decided that I was hers." The raven flew over to Pippin and nestled in his curly hair. "Nearly fell off my horse the first time she talked to me. I was even more frightened when I realized that no one else could hear her. But she explained quickly enough. Only those she wants to hear her are able." Pippin tried to gently dislodge the bird but only got a peck and a sharp nip as thanks. Giving up, he went about his task with a bird on his head, much to everyone's amusement.

Both Aragorn and Boromir had walked a ways away to hunt for some more food, and Legolas was keeping watch on top of one of the hills. Anne removed the belt around her waist and sighed happily as the weight of her sword and dagger was removed. "Why do you always carry that fan, lassie?" She glanced up at Gimli who was pulling himself up onto a rock, but keeping a sharp eye on the pony, lest he wander off.

"It's a shukusen." Anne told him with a smile, opening it with a snap, and letting everyone see the razor edge. "A fighting fan." Picking up a stick from the pile, which the hobbits were using to make a fire, she slashed it with the fan, cutting it easily in two. "It's a popular weapon for court ladies, or for when you need a weapon hidden in plain sight."

Boromir, Legolas, and Aragorn chose this moment to return, their eyes on the red and white weapon as they handed two rabbits to the hobbits. Loosing interest in the weapon, the four took to cleaning their lunch as the others stepped closer. Legolas stepped closer and Anne tilted the fan for them to see. He held out a hesitant hand. "It's a shu-ku-sen?" He repeated slowly. "May I?" Anne smirked, thinking quickly.

"Can I see your bow?" He looked up in surprise as she snapped the fan shut, slipping it behind her back. He thought for a second, and then laughed.

"Of course." Lifting it out of his quiver, he held out the beautifully carved weapon for her to take, which she did with no small amount of reverence, easily handing over the fighting fan, which Legolas opened and carefully ran a finger over the edge.

"Can you shoot a bow, my Lady?"

She didn't even glance up from the smooth wood as she ran her hands across the intricate carvings. "A far sight better than you, I'd wager." She answered Boromir easily, also ignoring everyone's laughter. "I couldn't bring my longbow…too hard to carry along with everything else…but nothing I've ever shot even compares with this."

"The elves make the best weapons." Aragorn informed her with a nod. Pulling out his own dagger, he held it out for inspection, and she nearly cried when she mentally compared it to her own.

"I have to get one of these…. and one of these…" She looked back at the bow in her hands, and then reluctantly handed it over.

"I'll admit, you could probably outshoot me, my Lady…" She glanced up at Boromir who spoke in a sly tone. "But I'll wager anything you can't outshoot Legolas."

"I'd have to be an idiot to take that wager." Anne said with a laugh, taking her fighting fan and closing it with a soft snap. "With a bow like that, he could outshoot anyone!"

"Using the same bow!" Boromir said impatiently. "And shooting the same target." She thought about it for a moment, but noticed the reproving looks both Aragorn and Legolas were shooting the other man.

"No…you're not telling me something. You'd never make a wager you weren't sure you'd win. What is it?" She turned to Legolas. "Can elves use their own bows better than anyone else? Or are they just the best at shooting."

"Elves are renown for their eyesight." Gandalf spoke up from his place beside the hobbits. "As well as for their shooting. You could certainly never beat him in a shooting match." She eyed his bow once again.

"I could try." She looked hopefully up at Legolas who smiled.

"Very well."

Aragorn was chosen to judge the contest, and although Anne had no hope of winning, she was eager to try the bow. Taking his dagger, he carved a circle into a small tree nearby, and then had them shoot from a point about 300 yards away. Motioning for Anne to go first, Legolas handed her one of his arrows. She felt the smooth wood between her fingers, taking a deep breath, and accepted the arrow, her eyes struggling to focus on the small target. Boromir stood by Aragorn and began to back up in mock anxiety. Forcing herself to ignore him, along with the elf beside her, and the audience of six sitting on the sidelines, she brought the arrow up and pulled the bow back, feeling her muscles work in that familiar way. Taking another deep breath, she released the arrow, already knowing that even if she didn't hit dead center, her form was perfect.

Once again, she relinquished the bow to Legolas who shot his own arrow effortlessly, and they made their was over to where the group gathered to stare at their makeshift target. As she approached, she saw that one of the arrows was in the center of the mark, and another was right at the edge. Knowing immediately which was hers, she sighed and crossed her arms good-naturedly. "Well, there's that matter settled, my Lord." She grinned at the elf. "You've got me beat with a bow, and I don't dare ask how you are with close combat. I'm sure you're the best on a horse as well. Is there anything you don't excel at?"

He laughed, and Aragorn patted her on the shoulder. "You did better than most of us could, and that shot was deadly accurate regardless." Legolas nodded.

"How long have you been using a bow?" He wondered.

"Since I started training at eleven. So nine years now. But a glaive is my favorite…it would have been too large to carry though."

"I've never seen one." Aragorn admitted.

"It's from the same land as my shukusen. It's a long spear with a curved blade on the end." She glanced up with a grin to see Boromir trying to pull the arrows out of the tree. Both were firmly lodged no amount of pulling could remove them, and the hobbits were looking at her with a new respect. She grinned. 'Good. They ought to know that I'm as good as any man…maybe not as good as an elf though…'

That night Anne took the first watch. It was, without a doubt, her favorite, as it allowed her to sleep through the night. After standing guard for a while, she woke Aragorn and crawled back into her bedroll, which lay between Gimli and Boromir, she instantly fell asleep, Mori at her side, and her dagger under her pillow.

She hadn't dreamt of her Aunt for nearly five months, but she figured later that it was the stress…stress and fear usually brought back her worst memories. She was in her bedroom, the tiny, windowless room she slept in. Her little brother was beside her, the lie coming back to taunt her in the form of a dream. He sat up and begged her not to leave him. Begged and pleaded, falling on his knees, just like that night so long ago that it seemed another lifetime. "Please don't leave me!" Over and over, as she threw her things into a bag.

"I'll come back for you." Over and over, an empty promise…. she knew that when she said it. 'He'll get away…she doesn't hate him…he'll be fine.' The stab of guilt as she snuck out the door…that was just as familiar. But unlike that night, this time she was caught. And her aunt was screaming, and the oven was hot, and the metal handle was hot, and then her hand was hot, and she knew not to yell because it would make it so much worse. Seeing that victory in her aunt's eyes would be unbearable. But it hurt. It hurt so much and she couldn't stop screaming, and her aunt was smiling and it hurt…it really hurt!

Anne jerked awake and looked down at her hand, surprised to find the source of her pain was Mori's sharp beak, biting her so hard that it nearly drew blood. Something dripped on her arm and she looked wildly around before realizing that the water was from her eyes. 'I'm crying.' She thought numbly. Wiping her eyes hastily, she ran a shaking hand over Mori's feathers.

"You didn't call out." The bird reassured her. "I woke you before it got to that."

Anne nodded in thanks, not willing to speak and wake any of her companions. She glanced over and quickly located Gimli, who sat with his back to her, staring out at the endless plains, watching for trouble. Mentally saying a fervent prayer of thanks to Ron's Goddess (It couldn't hurt) she lay back down, curled up on her side, and found herself face to face with Boromir who was staring at her in the dark, his eyes unreadable. She felt her face flush with humiliation, and she rolled over onto her other side, too embarrassed to even scowl at him. 'I can't believe this. I might as well have shot myself in the foot today for all the respect he'll have for me now.'

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm her breathing, and for a split second, she was sure that she felt a gentle hand on her back. She flinched and it was gone. 'Good.' She thought. 'Hopefully I've offended him…or scared him off. No use getting too close to these people." Even she knew that it was an act though. Crushing the impulse to scream in frustration, she closed her eyes.

After a little while, she heard someone stir and she opened her eyes. Legolas was standing, yawning silently, and then bent to pick up his bow. She shut her eyes quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed her watching. A few seconds later she felt him walk by, and she listened to Gimli crawl into his own bedroll beside her. Within a few minutes his breathing evened out, and soft snores filled her ears. But every time she closed her eyes she could see her brother, on his knees, tugging at her leg. Finally she gave up and sat cross-legged on top of the fabric. She turned to glance at Legolas, and found the elf staring at her.

Once again, her face turned hot. 'Still.' She reasoned with herself. 'He probably doesn't know why I'm up…even if he is oddly perceptive.' She stood, stepping off of he fabric in only her stockings, and walked over to where he sat. He stared at her in silence as she sat on the rock next to him, and then leaned over to look at her face. Belatedly, she realized that her eyes must still be red from crying. "Who's next?" She spoke just above a whisper, knowing that he could hear her perfectly.

"Boromir." He answered in the same tone, turning back to stare into the distance.

"The hobbits could keep watch."

He glanced over at her. "They could." He said carefully, and then turned back to keeping a look out.

The first time she'd had a nightmare while traveling had been with Ron. It had been his turn to keep watch, and she had startled him with her tossing and turning. That night he had sat beside her while she cried of fear and home, and guilt. He'd forgiven the fact that she wouldn't tell him why she cried, accepting nightmares as a feeble excuse. He'd been only twelve himself, the both of them pages, and away from home as knights in training for the first time. That had been a great feat for a twelve-year-old boy; listening to a little girl cry was hard for any male. But he'd done all the right things: holding her, whispering that it would be okay…even kissing her forehead; that was the first of two times he kissed her throughout their time together, and the only time it wasn't followed by a fight.

Now as she took deep, shaky breaths to calm her shaking hands she felt a hand on her shoulder. Reminded so strongly of her dear friend who would do anything to keep her from crying, she scooted closer and leaned against his shoulder. 'Just a second.' She told herself firmly. 'I'll be fine in just a minute…this passes, and then I'll be a knight again. Because that's what I am. I'm a Lady Knight, one of the best in the kingdom. I'm a warrior. And warriors don't let stupid things like nightmares scare them like this.'

His arm looped around her loosely, and rested on her shoulder. Once, when she had been a squire, another boy had done that to her as they sat on patrol. But he had been older, and had wanted to kiss her afterwards. He made her feel scratchy and closed in, and she hadn't tolerated his arm for more than a few seconds. But this felt like Ron; an older brother holding his little sister. A father holding his daughter. Familiar and safe.

"Are you alright?" She realized that it had been more than a second, and tried to jerk away, but his hand stayed around her shoulders for a minute.

"Sorry." She said brusquely. "Nightmare. I didn't mean to bother you." She felt rather than heard him sigh, and winced at how shaky her voice still was. She cleared her throat to try again, and he let her sit up.

He stared at her in silent reproach. He knew she was lying…it was obvious even to her. She managed to shake her head and force a cheery smile.

"Good night, Legolas. It's nearly time for Boromir to take over. You should get some rest." She felt his sharp eyes on her all the way back to her spot on the ground, and even as she climbed into the cloth sleeping bag, even if she pointedly ignored it.


	8. The Mysteries of Ravens

Anne dropped onto a boulder, resisting the urge to kick off her boots and massage her aching feet. She felt like she had been walking for years. The sun was rising in the sky, and already she was a little too warm. Gimli started unpacking Bill, and she groaned, reluctantly pulling herself upright to help. Pulling the bags off the pony and placing them on the ground, the two worked together to unburden the tired little brown pony, and Anne ran her hands over his neck, giving him a good scratch on the back. He stretched out happily and brought his head around to nudge her. Mori squawked and landed on his back, snuggling up with her new friend. "Are we getting close yet?" The raven wondered.

"How would I know?" She asked aloud, paying little mind to the strange looks the rest of the group was giving her. "I hardly know where we are now. Besides, you know this place better than I do, so stop playing dumb." She dropped back onto the ground and watched Sam start a small fire for cooking. There had not been time for enough breakfast apparently, so they were making it now. Boromir stood in the middle of the rock circle, looking around thoughtfully.

"Merry, Pippin!" He invited with a grin. The aforementioned hobbits frowned at one another, then complied, walking past Aragorn and the two other hobbits and standing in front the tall light-haired man. Aragorn produced a pipe and sat on the rocks near Frodo and Sam who were eating. Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf stood a ways away, talking in hushed tones. Anne climbed onto the rocks by Aragorn to watch as Boromir pulled out his sword, and the hobbits followed suit.

Training commenced, with Boromir taking turns with each of the two as he counted aloud, hitting his sword against the short swords in the hobbits' hands. "Three, two!" He called as his sword clanged against Pippin's. Anne watched silently, the sight bringing back memories of her first year of training. It had felt like they were being taught nothing but blocking during every lesson at first, but they found these lessons the most useful later on when they had started real sparring. "Faster!" Boromir called, stepping closer to Pippin.

"Move your feet!" Aragorn instructed around his pipe. Sam shook his head while Frodo laughed at their friends. Anne caught herself grinning as well; the two little hobbits fighting the warrior really did look ridiculous.

"If anyone were to ask for my opinion, which I know they're not…I'd say we're taking the long way round."

Anne glanced over at the dwarf whose booming voice carried over to where she sat.

"Gandalf, we could pass through the mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome." Anne leaned toward them in interest. The constant walking was bearable, but boring and tiresome. A shortcut, even through a mine, sounded wonderful at this point.

"No Gimli. I would not take that road unless I had no other choice." Before Anne could call out and cast her vote for the shortcut, Legolas leapt onto the rock beside Gimli, accentuating their already great height difference. Grinning, and wondering if the elf was showing off, she turned her attention back to the hobbits attempting to train with Boromir.

Suddenly, Merry took a step to the side, but put his sword up a second too late, and dropped it abruptly when Boromir's sword slid and accidently caught his hand.

Anne lifted an eyebrow as the larger man stepped forward quickly, a hand out. "Oh! Sorry!" He cried, only be kicked in the knee by the hobbit.

"Get him!" One of them cried, and Pippin managed to tackle Boromir to the ground. Anne laughed aloud as he wrestled with them, grinning and carefully trying to extract them without hurting them.

"For the Shire!" Aragorn laughed loudly at the declaration, and then pulled himself to his feet.

"Gentlemen, that's enough!" He strode to the wrestling group and reached for the hobbits who promptly pulled his feet out from under him, knocking him onto his back in the dirt.

"Not my arm! Not my arm!" A hobbit cried as Anne stepped forward from her rock, bending over beside Aragorn and offering him a hand up, still laughing. He took the hand gratefully and apparently decided to let the three be. She turned to the others, wondering if this would turn into an all out brawl, but was abruptly sobered when she saw the look on Legolas's face. Sam and Frodo were looking at him as well, then turned their attention to a cloud in the distance.

"What is it?" Anne asked, joining the others. She could barely make out the dark shape, but it was moving closer.

"Nothing! Just a wisp of cloud." Gimli said loudly, but his voice betrayed his doubts.

"It's moving fast…and against the wind." Boromir was pulling the hobbits to their feet, all mirth gone from his face.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas shouted. About to ask if that was a code, Anne jumped as Aragorn shouted beside her.

"Hide!" Not unused to such orders, Anne raced to the circle and began throwing their bags under bushes, between rocks…anywhere they could go, as quickly as possible while Frodo and Sam put out the fire and hid their cutlery. The group ducked under rocks and bushes, and Anne managed to crawl into a bush beside Merry and Pippin before a flock of huge crows swarmed over them. Not sure why they were hiding from a flock of crows but also trusting Aragorn, Anne all but held her breath, hoping desperately not to give them away with any movement on her part. Absently, she hoped Mori had found a place to hide as well.

After what felt like a full minute of hiding in the bushes, everyone began to emerge from their hiding places. Looking around, Anne was relieved to spot Mori in a nearby tree. "Spies of Saruman. The passage south is being watched." As Gandalf spoke, Mori flew to her shoulder and picked a twig out of her hair.

"He's going to take you over the mountains." The bird informed her quietly. No one else looked over, so she assumed that no one could hear her friend but her. She stepped away from the others.

"What about Moria?" She asked softly. The raven didn't reply, but tugged on her hair a bit in a comforting manner. Anne tuned back in to the conversation for a moment, and realized that everyone was packing up their things again. "What are Crebain?" She asked the bird as she picked up her bag and pulled in onto her back.

"Birds that work for Saruman, an evil wizard." Anne lifted an eyebrow.

"How exactly do you know this?"

As she had half expected, there was no answer. Rolling her eyes at her needlessly secretive friend, Anne followed the others as they began walking toward the mountain, all the while preparing herself for climb she was most certainly not looking forward to.

Please review if you enjoyed. Thank you so much for reading.

Chapter 9: Mountains and Mines  
Thank you so much to LILEVILONE96 (who is my favorite reviewer and my favorite person!) and to FirePsycho14 for reviewing. :) Thanks also to everyone who favorited or added the story to your alerts. I appreciate it so much and you are all very kind.

I sometimes quote LOTR (if not directly, then in some way shape or form.) Please don't sue me because I do not own LOTR or any of Tamora Pierce's books.

Mountains and Mines

It wasn't just cold; it was bloody freezing. Anne pulled her cloak around her shoulders as tightly as possible, taking deep breaths of the sharp, cold air and wincing as it burned her lungs. Mori huddled on her shoulder under her hair, and Anne brought an aching hand up to cover her friend better. "You okay?" She asked quietly.

"Just wonderful, Annie girl." Her bird sounded a little too chipper, and Anne rolled her eyes.

'Well she would be. She's not doing any actual work.' In front of her, she could make out Gimli and Gandalf, and then in front of them, Legolas seemed to walk on top of the snow, his feet making no tracks on the thick white blanket that covered everything in sight. Behind her, Boromir, the four hobbits and Aragorn made up the rear. The wind was freezing, and she tried to pull her hood over her head, but it was quickly blown back off of her head. Giving up, she tucked her hands back under the cloak, wishing for something heavier. The others didn't seem to be bothered too much by the growing cold, but she assumed they were just better at hiding it.

Suddenly Mori let out a screech and took flight, pulling out a few of her hairs. Bringing a hand up to the smarting patch of skin on her neck, Anne, along with the rest of the group, turned. A few meters behind the rest of them, Boromir was looking at something in his hand, Aragorn had a hand on his sword and was standing beside Frodo, and Frodo stood staring at Boromir with an expression she couldn't see. There was suddenly a figure beside her, and she turned to find Legolas at her side, and Gimli behind him. Legolas was fingering an arrow, his eyes narrow and focused on whatever the three were doing.

Mori circled around Boromir, and suddenly swooped down with a loud cry. Boromir cursed loudly and jumped back, then reached for the bird in irritation. Afraid for her friend, Anne crouched and stuck her hand in her boot, grabbed one of her throwing knives, and stood at the ready in case he managed to harm the bird. If he hurt her bird, he would pay for it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gimli staring at her in surprise, his eyes on the little knife in her hand. "Wait." Legolas said softly, his hand gripping the arm that held the knife.

A little black blur flew toward her, something shiny in it's talons. Dropping the hand with the knife, Anne watched as Mori approached. "Here." Mori cried. Surprised, Anne opened her hand, and something was dropped into it. Something heavy and cold. She looked at it carefully, holding the ring by the chain. She hadn't seen it this close before, and took a second to study the little object. It looked just like a normal gold ring, if a little larger. The surface was smooth, shiny, and almost reflective. She started to ask Mori what her reasoning behind this brilliant move was, but then someone was whispering her name, and it was terrible and she realized that she could be so powerful…so much more than a common girl turned knight…a queen…powerful and great and wonderful and…what?

Anne blinked sharply, shaking her head to dislodge the voice. Everyone stared at her warily, their eyes trained on her hand. Glancing over at Legolas, she realized that he had dropped his hand from the arrow and had his hand on his dagger. 'Of course.' She realized a bit numbly. 'The dagger would be so much easier at this range.' Clenching her fist around the chain and the ring, she began to walk. Her eyes trained on Frodo's, she approached him. The snow was thick, and it dragged at her ankles as she thought about how she would just have to walk right back up the slope. But this was important. She could see it in Frodo's eyes. These people had to trust her. And she wasn't going to let the temptation of whoever had invented this terrible thing undo her. Boromir took a step back as she approached, and Aragorn had dropped his hand from his sword, a small comfort. She wondered what Boromir had thought when he had held it. Would he try to take it from her now? She thought of Legolas, his hand on the elfish dagger, and knew that the ring would be safe from Boromir for the moment.

Frodo stared up at her, then straight at her as she crouched down in front of him. Holding out her hand, the ring lay flat on her palm, and he stared at it for a second before carefully pulling it out of her hand, and placing it back around his neck. "Thank you." He said softly. She grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder as she stood stiffly, the cold seeping into her joints and making her knees ache.

"Of course." Turning, she made her way back up the mountain. Lifting an eyebrow, she looked at Legolas, first letting her eyes linger on his hand, which still rested on the dagger, then at his face, her bright green eyes meeting his blue ones. "What did you expect?" She asked softly as she came to stand in front of him, letting her hurt show. Pushing past him, she bent down and placed the little knife, which she had apparently been holding, back into her boot. When she had stood up again, they were still staring at her. "Do we have a mountain to climb or not?" She snapped. "It's too cold to be standing around!" Brushing past both elf and dwarf, she followed Gandalf who had begun walking again. Mori returned to her shoulder, nuzzling her hair.

"Why'd you have to go and do that?" She asked softly.

"To prove a point." Anne decided to leave it at that. There wasn't anything she could do to get any more out of the bird, so she decided to leave it for the moment. Whatever point she was supposed to have proven, she hoped it had worked.

As they climbed higher up the mountain, the very earth beneath their feet seemed to shake. Aragorn kept his cloak over Frodo and Sam, and Boromir did the same with Pippin and Merry. Not sure what she could do to help, Anne kept to the mountainside and edged her way forward behind the others. Legolas walked up ahead, the only one of the group able to walk forward easily in the worsening blizzard. The wind shoved her back, making it nearly impossible to walk. Once she stumbled, her knees sinking into the cold snow, and she winced as the water soaked her legs. Taking a minute to take a breath, she kneeled in the snow as sharp pains ran up her legs from the cold.

A large hand gripped the back of her arm and pulled her up, shaking her firmly. She looked at the hand and realized that it was Boromir. He was holding her arm fiercely. "What are you doing!?" He shouted, shaking her again. "We can't stop." She blinked and brushed snow off of her knees, shivering again. The two hobbits were between the two of them, and were staring at her in concern. Aragorn was forced to stop behind Boromir and stared at her over his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He called over the wind. She pulled away from Boromir and nodded, turning around and walking again. She was so tired…Mori nipped her neck gently and she took a deep breath.

'You know better.' She told herself firmly. 'You know better! How stupid can you get? You can't just stop when it's this cold. You'll lay down and die.' She'd seen it happen plenty of times. "The first time we went to the mountains, we came across some bandits." She told Mori quietly, drawing her cloak back around her shoulders. Talking would help, she hoped. "They had stopped for a rest I suppose. Decided to lay down in the snow and sleep. They never got up." She looked over the cliff for a second, out at the white abyss, and knew that she didn't want to die here.

Anne felt like they had been walking in the snow for hours, and still the elf didn't seem to be effected by the snow swirling around him. She wondered briefly how it was that the elf seemed so at ease on the top of a mountain in the middle of a blizzard. Suddenly the mountain began to shake, and Gandalf was shouting, standing out in front of the rest, his staff out. She couldn't make out the words, but Legolas shouted something as well, and then Gandalf seemed to chant for a minute. Then there was a loud crack, and darkness.

Anne opened her eyes wide in shock. There was a sharp pain at the back of her neck, and something was running down her back…warm turning to cold. She tried to move around, but it was difficult. 'Avalanche.' She realized with a second of panic. 'Calm down. Get out of the snow.' Reaching up, she found that her hand could easily reach the open air. Someone took it and pulled, and she began to pull herself out of the drift. The snow seemed to soak into all of her clothes and she realized how cold she was. Reaching a hand back to her neck, she found Mori and pulled her into her arms, a shivering mess. "You okay?" She asked the bird. Mori nodded, still shivering, but apparently fine. Reaching back again, she found that her hand came back bloody from where the bird had apparently bit her…or scratched her. There was no telling. Anne looked up at the others, giving Aragorn, who was dusting snow off of the hobbits and had apparently been the one to help her up, a grateful nod.

"Everyone okay?" He called. Everyone replied in the affirmative.

"Gandalf! We must get off the mountain!" Aragorn shouted into the wind, but by the look on Gandalf's face he had heard him. Boromir shouted something about his city, and Gimli again insisted on Moria, which was sounding more and more appealing.

"We'll let the ring bearer decide." Gandalf said finally. "Frodo?" Anne looked down at Frodo, along with the others. For a moment, he met her eyes. She wondered if she looked as terrible as the rest of them, soaked in snow and freezing.

"We'll go through the mines." Frodo announced softly.

Gandalf took a long moment, as if to absorb this new development. Anne had to wonder what could be so terrible about these mines, but if Gandalf looked so frightened, she began to wonder if this was such a good idea. But finally he nodded. "So be it."

The walk down the mountain was almost as much fun as the walk up. Still, the air warmed as they moved downward, and the going got less treacherous as they traveled, so that by nightfall they were back on solid ground, and Anne felt almost warm again. Still, her clothes were soaked through, so when they stopped for a rest, she opened her pack and pulled her only change of clothes out. The breast-band would have to stay, since it was the only one she had, and she decided that she could clean it later. It wasn't dirty yet anyway, just wet from the snow. Pulling her tunic over her head, she threw it on the ground and reached for another one, stopping when she heard a gasp.

Boromir was staring at her in abject horror, while the others stared at her in a mixture of surprise and shock. Anne realized with no small amount of irritation that Boromir's eyes strayed down her body for a second before resting again on his face. Anne then realized that she had only ever changed in her bedroll. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms and faced him, ignoring any embarrassment she felt at being only in her underwear and pants. "Boromir, the sight of you without a shirt does not drive me mad with lust, so you needn't pretend the sight of me in the same condition does anything of the sort to you. For goodness sake, you act like you've never seen a woman before." Turning back around, she pulled the fresh tunic over her head, then reached down and removed her belt. Glancing back, she saw Aragorn and Legolas turn around, and Boromir quickly followed suit. Glad for a bit of privacy, she pulled the wet pants off and put the new ones on. This was the worst part of being a woman among men.

They camped there that night, then started early the next morning for the mines. Anne walked with the hobbits and the pony toward the back, and soon they came to a dark cavern. Anne looked around uneasily. The huge body of water that sat beside the mountain seemed to move occasionally, and she didn't really want to know what lived in there. Keeping her feet as dry as possible, she watched as the hobbits stumbled through the wet, swampy ground. One of them stepped in a deep puddle and shook his feet in disgust

"Um…where is the door to Moria?" She asked softly in the silence. Gimli turned to her in the dark.

"Dwarves doors are invisible when closed. Even their masters cannot find them if their secret's are forgotten." Anne stared at the blank wall for a moment.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas rolled his eyes. Gimli gave an irritated growl and Anne grinned. Gandalf approached a section of the rock wall, and suddenly the moon shone down on it, revealing a glowing arch in the wall. Anne gasped in surprise, stepping a little closer as she stared at the beautiful carvings.

"It reads…" Gandalf lifted his staff. "The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter."

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry wondered aloud.

"Well it's quite simple really. If you're a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Suddenly he spoke loudly in a strange tongue. Everyone watched expectantly, but surprisingly, nothing happened. Again he tried, but nothing.

Legolas sighed and glanced down at Pippin, who was staring up at him. "Nothings happened." The elf snorted. Gimli stared incredulously as Gandalf began pushing against the doors to no avail.

"I once knew all the spells in all the tongues of elves, men, and dwarves." Gandalf grumbled.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin spoke up cheerfully.

"Knock your head against these walls Perigrin Took! And if that does not work, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

After a while, everyone sat down on the rocks, Gandalf's chanting falling into the background. Aragorn took the opportunity to walk over to Sam, whose hands held Bill's lead rope. "The mines are no place for a pony Sam. Not even one so brave as Bill." He spoke gently, but Sam's face still crumbled as Aragorn began to remove the halter. Anne walked over and, after placing a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, helped Aragorn remove the bags. They would all have to carry their bags from then on, or leave them. Anne wondered at the Pony's inability to go into the mines, but assumed it was because of the treacherous terrain.

'Still,' she thought, we led him up a mountain with little trouble.'

"Go on Bill." Aragorn said, turning the pony. "Don't worry Sam. He knows the way home."

"Goodbye Bill." Sam whispered.

Anne heard a splash and turned to the water where Pippin stood with a stone in his hand, obviously about to throw it in. Aragorn walked over quickly and caught his hand, whispering something urgently. The hobbit stared out at the water, then nodded, his eyes still trained on the darkness. Boromir joined Aragorn at the water's edge, and they stared out for a moment. Feeling goosebumps rise on her arms, Anne turned to Frodo, who had stood and approached the door.

"Speak friend….and enter." Frodo spoke aloud in the dark. "What's the elfish word for friend?" Frodo asked the group. Gandalf looked up.

"Mellon." He answered quietly. Suddenly there was a loud crack, and the door split open.

Everyone stood immediately and began to make their way into the hole in the mountain. Anne followed Aragorn and Boromir, who were the last to enter.

"So master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves." Gimli's voice echoed through the cave. "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone." He turned back to Anne, and waved an arm about as Gandalf lit his staff. "This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine!" Anne stopped listening as the staff illuminated the beautiful hall…filled with corpses.

"This is no mine." Boromir said softly as Gimli stared in horror at the skeletons. "It is a tomb!"

Legolas knelt down and pulled an arrow out of a corpse, the dropped it and strung one of his own. "Goblins!" Aragorn and Boromir followed suit, pulling out their swords, and Anne reached down and pulled a knife from her boot.

"We make for the gap of Rohan." Boromir said softly. "We should never have come here. Now get out of here!"

Suddenly the hobbits were shouting. Turning sharply, Anne felt her feet move before she was even aware of it. Frodo was being dragged off by something around his foot. Sam pulled out his sword and sliced at it, severing a tentacle. "Strider!" He shouted.

"Aragorn!" The others turned, and Aragorn ran over to where Anne crouched beside Frodo, about to help him up. Mori screeched in the silence, and suddenly they were thrown on to their backs by a mass of tentacles; all except Frodo, who was dragged over the water and into the air by his ankle. They all stared as he was dangled over a great beast that rose out of the water. An arrow sailed past Anne's head, and she cursed the fact that she hadn't brought her own bow. Aragorn and Boromir ran into the water, swords brandished as they sliced at the legs, all while Frodo screamed for Aragorn. Clutching the little knife still in her hand, Anne aimed at the face of the beast and threw the knife as hard as she could.

There was a large screech as it found it's mark beside one of it's eyes, and the beast flailed, a tentacle catching Boromir and knocking him into the water where he disappeared for a moment. Anne pulled out her own sword and raced into the water, ducking under a tentacle that grabbed for her, then cutting another one with a clean slice. She made her way closer to the center of the creature, where all the legs met in a circular blob with a large mouth filled with sharp teeth. Cutting off the end of an appendage that was going for Boromir, she reached out a hand and yanked him up, then joined the two in once again trying to cut off the tentacle that held the screaming hobbit in the air. Finally Boromir managed to pick the right one, and the hobbit fell into his arms with a thump.

"Go! Inside the mine!" Gandalf screamed. Anne made for the shore with the other two as the other hobbits and Gimli raced into the mine. She caught sight of Legolas standing on the edge of the shore, his bow out and arrow ready.

"Legolas!" She called. "Aim for the eye!" She didn't dare pause long enough to turn around as they all made it onto dry ground. There was the snap of a bowstring, and Anne literally felt the feather of the arrow touch the top of her head, and felt of rush of gratitude for Legolas's wonderful aim. There was another scream from the monster, and it surged out of the water just as they all raced through the doorway. There was a great crash as the rocks came raining down over the entrance, the everyone stopped to stare as the rocks cut off the light from outside, trapping them inside.

Everyone paused to catch their breath as Gandalf lit his staff. "It seems we have but once choice." He said eventually. Anne looked around at the corpses that lay on the stairs and in the hall. Mori flew over to her shoulder and Anne brought up a hand to stroke the bird, hoping that whatever had killed the dwarves of Moria was no longer around.


	9. Hiking Through Moria

As a rock under her foot broke loose for the hundredth time in a few hours, sending her crashing forward, Anne cursed her eagerness to take a shortcut through a mine. The path was almost too dark to see, and the bits of light that Gandalf's stick put out were hardly enough to see by. Groping blindly in the dark, she winced and moaned softly as her face connected with the stone steps. Mori screeched from her shoulder and leaped into the air, finding a perch on Gimli who walked in front of her. Wondering if dwarves could see better in the dark, she started to pick herself up, brushing off the debris that lodged in her hands. Wiping gently at her face, she smelled the sharp scent of blood on her hands and sighed, mentally adding her face to the long list of places where she was scarred.

"You okay, lass?" Gimli's deep voice was still rough from sorrow, but she appreciated the concern.

"Fine." She said softly, careful to keep her voice pitched soft. Gandalf had warned them that they should be as quiet as possible when passing though the mines, and Anne wondered if Mori's cry had upset anything. Still, there was little she could do about it now. After brushing the dirt and rocks from the hose over her now scraped knees, she began walking again. Not ten minutes later, one of the hobbits fell as well, picking himself up just as quickly. It was hard going, especially considering the corpses that lay haphazardly along the path, and the ground that seemed to be crumbling beneath their feet.

When they had been walking for what felt like weeks but what Anne assumed was more like a day, they stopped and decided to rest for the night…or however many hours it was supposed to be. They had been underground less than a day, and already Anne was unable to tell the time. Just thinking about it made her claustrophobic, so she took a deep breath and, feeling around carefully, located a rock to sit on. The air was still and cool, and she pulled her cloak around her more tightly, hoping to block the chill. Mori hopped down from Gimli's shoulder and burrowed into her shoulder and under her ponytail, the bird's favorite spot. The others joined her among the rocks, and Legolas passed out some of his bread to the others. Anne waved it away when it got to her. The thought of eating amongst all these corpses made her want to sick up, and she preferred not to waste food.

Anne volunteered for the first watch, and Frodo took the second. After that she didn't bother listening. She knew who to wake when the time came…that was all she cared about. Sitting perched on a rock, staring out into the darkness so thick that she couldn't see past the end of her nose, she imagined all sorts of terrors, as if her mind wished to entertain itself. The soft sounds of her own breathing became the whispered movements of the giant spiders she so hated. Gimli's snoring turned into the growling of the monsters she had hidden from outside of Rivendell. Taking deep breaths to calm her mind, and rubbing her hand with her thumb, she managed to put end to the ridiculous fears and focus.

But her mind wandered none the less. She thought about Ron, and wondered if he missed her. She had been gone for quite a while now; would he think her dead? Would he send a search party, or even come after her himself? Or would he have known that she would get herself involved in some type of quest? And what of her friends at the palace? She hadn't said goodbye to anyone before leaving….would he tell them what had happened? She hoped so. She wasn't close to anyone in the same way that she was with Ron, but she still didn't want the others to worry. She thought back to the company left without a knight commander. Would they miss her? They liked her well enough, or seemed to. 'But what if they were just waiting for me to die…what if they always wanted to get rid of me? Imagine, being assigned to a company under a woman…a commoner at that…'

A sudden noise brought her to her feet. It was a little thing, a tiny snap in the distance. Hand on her sword, she took a hesitant step forward to the edge of the rock, her eyes straining in the darkness. For a second, she thought about waking Legolas, who could surely see better than she could, but there was no other noise to be heard. Waiting for a moment, she decided that whatever it was, it wasn't going to attack them.

After a while, she went to wake Frodo for his watch. He wished her good night, and she climbed into her bag, closed her eyes, and was dead to the world. But nightmares have a way of finding you when you are hiding away in the dark. She hadn't been asleep a minute before she was dreaming, but this one was different. She was in the forest; not an uncommon theme for her dreams. She had been raised in one, first by her mother and then by her aunt. She was walking towards something, and as it so often was in dreams, she knew it was important but she didn't know why.

She came to a clearing, the soft light trickling through the trees. Frowning, she looked up at the canopy, watched the light filter through the golden leaves. Suddenly she stopped, shaking her head. She didn't want to do this again. She tried to back away, to turn, but she was glued to the spot. And there was the figure on the branch of the tree, crouching, watching her. Her feet seemed to be melted to the ground, and all she could do was watch as the figured jumped, the rope catching, the bounce as the silhouette reached the end of the rope, the terrible snapping sound. "Mommy!"

Jerking awake, Anne placed a hand over her mouth quickly, praying that the others couldn't hear her racing heart. There was no other sound, save for the steady breathing of the others, and Gimli's harsh, grating snores. Laying her head back on the thin cloth, she felt her cold tears run down her face and into her ears. Sniffing softly, and clenched her teeth and forced herself to be quiet. The others were trying to sleep, someone (she glanced over but couldn't make out who the person was) was on duty, and who knew what was waiting in the dark? No…she would be quiet, and then she would fall back to sleep.

The first half of that plan worked out fine. A life of dealing with her aunt, and then travelling with men and warriors all the time, she had learned to keep her emotions quiet and to herself…for the most part. But falling back to sleep was almost impossible. So she tried to rest, but she could have sworn she heard something…something breathing in the distance, or something walking around. Once, she was sure she heard a voice, whispering, growling in the dark.

Everyone woke around the same time, although no one was quite sure when that was. Gandalf again lit his staff, and they began to walk, making their way through ancient tunnels full of dirt and the occasional dead dwarf or goblin. Anne had never met a goblin, but the corpses weren't pretty, and she had no desire to encounter a live one. The hobbits chatted quietly for some of the trip, but mostly there was dead silence between them. Anne hadn't properly spoken to Legolas since he had all but threatened to kill her during Mori's brilliant plan involving an evil ring, and, whether he thought she was silly for snapping at him or because no one was speaking in the mines anyway, he made no attempt to speak with her. But as her luck would have it, three days into the mines, Anne woke once again from nightmares, and this time a hand on her shoulder shook her awake.

"Anne!" There was an urgent whisper in her ear, and she jerked back into consciousness, a restraining hand on her own keeping her from grabbing her dagger. "Shh." She managed to focus on the face in front of hers, and found Legolas's bright blue eyes staring into her own. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She said softly. Sorry…" She managed. "Did I….did I say anything?" She asked a bit sheepishly.

"You…" He hesitated, his eyes not meeting hers. "Not loudly…you were whispering. You asked for your mother." She stiffened, then realized that his hand was still on hers. She pulled gently away, and Anne felt him squeeze her hand gently then let her go.

"Sorry." She said again, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He refuted her quietly. Rubbing her arms, she waiting in the awkward silence. "I am sorry though." She glanced up in surprise. "I shouldn't have doubted you." There was something that wasn't remorse in his eyes…more like happiness. "I'm glad we can trust you." He smiled.

"No…I mean…you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to protect Frodo…the same as me. And Boromir…" She stopped. What could she say about Boromir? She thought of him teasing her, that open smile on his face, or the way he wrestled with Merry and Pippin. She thought about his passionate speech about Gondor and his people. But then she thought of the way he held the ring. Or when he saved Frodo from the giant monster in the lake. "Boromir…"

"The ring calls to him." Legolas spoke softly, almost gently. "It calls to everyone…it wants to be reunited with its master, and it will use anyone to accomplish that. Boromir wants the power of the ring. He still thinks he can control it."

"And you?" He looked into her eyes, surprise written all over his face. "Does it call to you?"

Slowly, understanding came over his face. "What did it promise you?"

"Power. Same as Boromir I guess. I thought…I could be someone. Something more than a common girl from nowhere." She sighed. "But what about you?"

"You are." She lifted an eyebrow as he stood, his movements silent in the dark. "More than that." He whispered over his shoulder as he walked back to his bed.

Mori nibbled at her ear, then her hair, as if to console her. 'Why does everyone I know have to be so cryptic? ' She thought irritably, pointedly ignoring the pleased blush on her face.


	10. Hiking Through Moria

Hiking Through Moria

As a rock under my foot broke loose for the hundredth time in a few hours, sending me crashing forward, I cursed my eagerness to take the shortcut through a mine. The path was too dark to actually see, and the bits of light that Gandalf's stick put out were hardly enough to see by. Groping blindly in the dark, I winced and moaned softly as my face connected with the stone steps. Mori screeched from my shoulder and leaped into the air, finding a perch on Gimli who walked in front of me. Wondering if dwarves could see better in the dark, I started to pick myself up, brushing off the debris that lodged in my hands. Wiping gently at my face, I smelled the sharp scent of blood on my hands and sighed, mentally adding my face to the long list of places where I had scars.

"You alright, lass?" Gimli's deep voice was still rough from sorrow, but I appreciated the concern. Behind me, I could feel Aragorn stop, but he didn't speak. The soft sound of footsteps in the mine stopped as I brought the procession to a halt.

"Fine." I said softly, careful to keep my voice pitched soft. Gandalf had warned us that we should be as quiet as possible when passing though the mines, and I wondered if Mori's cry had upset anything. Still, there was little I could do about it now. After brushing the dirt and rocks from the hose over my now scraped knees, I began walking again. Not ten minutes later, one of the hobbits fell as well, picking himself up just as quickly. It was hard going, especially considering the corpses that lay haphazardly along the path, and the ground that seemed to be crumbling beneath our feet. Already I could not wait to get out of this place.

When we had been walking for what felt like weeks but what I assumed was more like a day, we stopped and decided to rest for the night…or however many hours it was supposed to be. We had been underground less than a day, and already I was unable to tell the time. Just thinking about it made me feel claustrophobic, so I took a deep breath and, feeling around carefully, located a rock to sit on. The air was still and cool, and I pulled my cloak around me more tightly, hoping to block the chill.

Mori hopped down from Gimli's shoulder and burrowed into my neck under my ponytail, her favorite spot. The others joined me among the rocks, and Legolas passed out some of his bread. I passed it on when it came to me, not taking any. The thought of eating amongst all these corpses made me want to sick up, and I preferred not to waste food.

I volunteered for the first watch, and Frodo took the second. No one said anything about that, although the hobbits hadn't been taking shifts at guarding us at night for a while. After he volunteered for the second watch, I stopped listening. I knew whom to wake when the time came…that was all I cared about. Sitting perched on a rock, staring out into the darkness so thick that I couldn't see past the end of my nose, I imagined all sorts of terrors, as if my mind wanted to entertain itself. The soft sounds of my own breathing became the whispered movements of the giant spiders I so hated. Gimli's snoring turned into the growling of the monsters I had hidden from outside of Rivendell. Taking deep breaths to calm my mind, and rubbing my hand with my thumb, I managed to put end to the ridiculous fears and focus.

But my mind wandered nonetheless. I thought about Ron, and wondered if he missed me. I had been gone for quite a while now; would he think me dead? Would he send a search party, or even come after me himself? Or would he have known that I would get myself involved in some type of quest? And what of my friends at the palace? I hadn't said goodbye to anyone before leaving…there hadn't been time. Would he tell them what had happened? I hoped so. I wasn't close to anyone in the same way that I was with Ron, but I still didn't want the others to worry. I thought back to the company left without a knight commander. Would they miss me? They liked me well enough, or seemed to. 'But what if they were just waiting for me to die…what if they always wanted to get rid of me? Imagine, being assigned to a company under a woman…and a commoner at that…'

A sudden noise brought me to my feet. It was a little thing, a tiny snap in the distance. Hand on my sword, I took a hesitant step forward to the edge of the rock, my eyes straining in the darkness. For a second, I thought about waking Legolas, who could surely see better than I could, but there was no other noise to be heard. Waiting for a moment, I decided that whatever it was, it wasn't going to attack us.

After a while, I went to wake Frodo for his watch. The hobbit woke easily, with just a hand on his shoulder, and I quietly told him it was his turn to keep watch. Frodo wished me good night, and I climbed into my bag, closed my eyes, and was dead to the world. But nightmares have a way of finding you when you are hiding away in the dark. I hadn't been asleep a minute before I was dreaming, but this one was different. I was in the forest; not an uncommon theme for my dreams. I had been raised in one, first by my mother and then by my aunt. I was walking towards something, and as it so often was in dreams, I knew it was important but I didn't know why.

I came to a clearing, the soft light trickling through the trees. Frowning, I looked up at the canopy, watched the light filter through the golden leaves. Suddenly I stopped, shaking my head. I didn't want to do this again. I tried to back away, to turn, but I was glued to the spot. And there was the figure on the branch of the tree, crouching, watching my. My feet seemed to be melted to the ground, and all I could do was watch as the figure jumped, the rope catching, the bounce as the silhouette reached the end of the rope, the terrible snapping sound. "Mommy!"

Jerking awake, I placed a hand over my mouth quickly, praying that the others couldn't hear my racing heart. There was no other sound, save for the steady breathing of the others, and Gimli's harsh, grating snores. Laying my head back on the thin cloth, I felt my cold tears run down my face and into my ears. Sniffing softly, I clenched my teeth and forced myself to be quiet. The others were trying to sleep, someone (I glanced over but couldn't make out who the person was) was on duty, and who knew what was waiting in the dark? No…I would be quiet, and then I would fall back to sleep.

The first half of that plan worked out fine. A life of dealing with my aunt, and then travelling with men and warriors all the time, I had learned to keep my emotions quiet and to myself…for the most part. But falling back to sleep was almost impossible. So I tried to rest, but I could have sworn I heard something…something breathing in the distance, or something walking around. Once, I was sure I heard a voice, whispering, growling in the dark.

We all woke around the same time, although no one was quite sure when that was. Gandalf again lit his staff, and we began to walk once more, making our way through ancient tunnels full of dirt and the occasional dead dwarf or goblin. I had never met a goblin, but the corpses weren't pretty, and I had no desire to encounter a live one. The hobbits chatted quietly for some of the trip, but mostly there was dead silence between them. I too kept quiet, only whispering occasionally with Mori, and managed to keep quiet in the night when the nightmares came. Ron was the only person who had ever caught me having them, and he had always been kind about it, but I made sure not to let anyone in my company here.

However, as my luck would have it, three days into the mines, I woke once again from nightmares, and this time a hand on my shoulder shook my awake. "Anne!" There was an urgent whisper in my ear, and I jerked back into consciousness, a restraining hand on my own keeping me from grabbing my dagger, causing the familiar panic to set in. Wide eyed, I tried to scream, but was soothed by another whisper near my ear. "Shh." I managed to focus on the face inches from my own. "Are you alright?" He asked, pulling away just a little, his hand still on my arm. It was difficult for me to see, but he sounded concerned.

"I'm fine." I said softly. "Sorry…" I managed. "Did I….did I say anything?" I asked a bit sheepishly. It was one thing to have him suspect I had the occasional nightmare. What warrior didn't? It was another for him to have heard me crying like a child in my sleep.

"You…" He hesitated, his eyes not meeting mine. "Not loudly…you were whispering. You asked for your mother." I stiffened, and then realized that his hand was still on my arm. I pulled gently away, and I felt him squeeze my arm gently before letting it go.

"Sorry." I said again, refusing to meet his eyes. Before this was over, these men would regret having me along. I could feel it already, and hot shame filled me.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He refuted me quietly, much to my surprise. Most men would have let it be. Rubbing my arms, I waited out the awkward silence. "I am sorry though." I glanced up in surprise. "I should never have doubted you." There was something that wasn't remorse in his tone…more like happiness. "I am glad we can trust you." There was a smile in his voice now, and his hand touched my arm again. I thought back to the mountain, how I had been so angry when, in fact, these men had no real reason to trust me. I was a stranger, from a strange land, and for all they knew, a liar.

"No…I mean…you do not have to be sorry for that. I should never have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to protect Frodo…the same as me. And Boromir…" I stopped. What could I say about Boromir? I thought of him teasing me, that open smile on his face, or the way he wrestled with Merry and Pippin. I thought about his passionate speech about Gondor and his people. But then I thought of the way he held the ring. Or when he saved Frodo from the giant monster in the lake. The man was a contradiction. "Boromir…"

"The ring calls to him." Legolas spoke softly, almost gently. I wondered suddenly what he had seen in his many years. Despite his youthful appearance, he was old enough to be a long dead ancestor to me. It would make him good person to look to in a crisis. "It calls to everyone…it wants to be reunited with its master, and it will use anyone to accomplish that. Boromir wants the power of the ring. He still thinks he can control it."

"And you?" He looked into my eyes that still tried to adjust to the dark. "Does it call to you?" I asked in a small voice.

Slowly, understanding came over his face. "What did it promise you?" He asked instead of answering.

"Power. Same as Boromir I suppose. I thought…I could be someone. Something more than a common girl from nowhere." I sighed. "But what about you?"

"You are." I lifted an eyebrow as he stood, his movements silent in the dark. "More than that." He whispered over his shoulder as he walked back to his bed.

Mori nibbled at my ear, then my hair, as if to console my. 'Why does everyone I know have to be so cryptic? ' I thought irritably, pointedly ignoring the pleased blush on my face.

Thank you so much for reading.


	11. A Battle Among the Dead

There was no more sleep to be had that night. Or morning. It was impossible to tell the time, surrounded as we were by darkness at all times. The only real light came from the Wizard's staff, which lay on the ground where he slept. I curled up in my bedroll, watching as the others took turns keeping watch, their shadows moving in the dark. Mori snuggled at my side, her body hidden by my hair. Figuring I wasn't going to fall asleep once more for fear of nightmares or crying out in my sleep, I stretched and contented myself with staring out into the darkness. I'd learned early on how to take my rest where I could, whether or not I could sleep. My stomach grumbled quietly, and I willed it quiet to no avail. Legolas had plenty of his bread in his pack, which could fill my stomach with only a few bites, even though the hobbits could eat four loaves a piece, but I didn't want to wake anyone in my search for an early breakfast. Had it been anyone else, I could have easily taken it for myself…I had plenty of early training as a thief. But Legolas was a light sleeper.

Gandalf woke first when it was, apparently, morning, and then the others, with the hobbits being dragged from sleep by the wizard last. I sat up when the men did, quickly wrapping my hair in a single braid that coiled around the back of my head, out of the way. Interwoven was the spiked strap, and I was careful not to prick myself on the pointed metal spikes. The paltry light put out from the staff brightened a bit, and we all packed our gear without a word spoken between us. I didn't know if it was the oppressive atmosphere within the cave or the desire to move undetected that kept us all silent, but I didn't mind too much. Mori perched on her usual place on my shoulder, nuzzling my ear with her beak, and I lifted a hand, stroking her feathers absently as we began our march forward once more.

I wondered if we would ever escape this underground tomb, and I briefly had fantasies of never again viewing the sun...of dying in this faraway land, never to see my home again. I thought of my room at the palace, of my friends…my company. I may never see them again. And then, just as I was fighting off the panic that came with being closed in for so long, we emerged into a huge room, the faint light of the staff illuminating the many passageways that broke off from the main area.

"Let me risk a little more light." Gandalf spoke, his voice startling me for a second. It felt as though no one had spoken aloud so boldly in days, although it was hard to keep track. With the staff shining brightly and chasing the darkness away, I was able to see the full beauty of this underground city. "Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

"There's an eye-opener and no mistake." Sam murmured, and I smiled down at him, bringing up a hand while Mori nuzzled my ear. If Gandalf knew exactly where we were, maybe he would know how to lead us out of this place. I opened my mouth to ask Gandalf about that when Gimli gave a start.

"No!" I jumped at the dwarf's cry, and we all turned toward him as he began to run off toward a small room a little ways away. Immediately, whatever hope I'd been feeling evaporated, a knot of dread forming in my stomach.

"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted, cautioning him to wait, but the dwarf ignored him, racing toward the room, and the rest of us had little choice but to follow, Mori flying ahead of us and circling the room in which we found ourselves. Once more we were in a large, enclosed room, only one door leading out, and I tried to stay near it, my eyes on it between darting around the room. An enclosed room in an enclosed mine filled with the dead…it was a thing of nightmares. There seemed to be a kind of upper story, with a ledge that ran around, about the width of two men standing side by side, but there did not seem to be any kind of passages. We could be trapped in here.

Gimli cried aloud once more, and I felt the blood drain from my face and my stomach twist when I saw the skeletons littered about the room. One in particular sat up against a wall, a huge book held in his bone hands. I glanced over at Legolas who was watching Gimli sadly, and at Aragon who was looking down, his eyes faraway and grim. Gimli stared down at a large, raised platform, obviously a tomb, on which was written something in an unfamiliar language. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, lord of Moria." I could only assume that Balin was a relative of Gimli's. I dropped my gaze as Gandalf stepped forward, a hand briefly resting on Gimli's shoulder before retrieving the book and blowing away the dust.

The wizard read what were apparently the last words scribbled out by a dwarf who had died in a battle long ago, ignoring the occasional soft cry from Gimli. "They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gate, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep." I glanced over uncomfortably at Boromir, feeling closed in once more. The man met my eyes, then glanced back at the door. I nodded, feeling the sentiment. I wanted out too. Behind him, Pippin wandered toward the skeleton that sat propped atop what I assumed was a well, or perhaps a mineshaft. I truly had no idea how a mine worked, nor how the mine itself was set up. The others paid him no mind, listening with rapt attention to Gandalf. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out..." The hobbits stood in uncomfortable silence...all but one. "They are coming."

"Pippin." I hissed, hoping to stop the inevitable, but his curiosity won out, and with a single touch to the arrow stuck fast in the dwarf's body, he disrupted the corpse, sending it into the hole with a crash that seemed to shake my very bones, the chain dragging behind, the echo bouncing all around us. The noise filled the room, and I almost closed my eyes against it, so loudly did it grade against my ears. Mori squawked irritably, shifting on my shoulder where she'd come to perch during Gandalf's reading.

At my side, Aragorn and Legolas sighed, dropping their heads and clasping their hands together, and Boromir exhaled audibly when there was silence once more. Gandalf turned to Pippin with a look of incredulous fury, and I stepped forward, hand half outstretched in hope to prevent the outburst. Mori tugged my hair for a second, successfully diverting me, and Gandalf's voice rang out. "Fool of a Took!" I couldn't help but jump a little, the fury reminding me of my aunt's so long ago. I hated being shouted at, even now, and rarely did I do it to my company, the servants at the palace, or even the street urchin thieves that lived out in my city. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Pippin cringed, and I had the urge to put a hand on his shoulder, but was distracted by the soft sound of drums.

Everyone froze. Then the drum grew louder every second, increasing in speed and volume until Sam called out. "Frodo!" We all turned to him, and he looked down, following Sam's gaze to the short sword at his side, pulling it halfway from its sheath. It glowed a bright, beautiful blue that I was sure hadn't been true before.

"Orcs!" Legolas's words spurred us all into action, even though I had no idea why a blue short sword meant orcs. Boromir was immediately racing towards the doors that led to the outer hall, struggling to push them shut on his own. An arrow flew past his head, narrowly missing his head, and then another followed, sticking the door. Aragorn turned toward the hobbits.

"Get back!" He ordered them. "And stay close to Gandalf." As they followed his orders, he joined Boromir at the doors, helping him to hold them shut while Legolas found things to place between the handles to keep them shut, grabbing old axes and throwing them carefully to Aragorn.

"Go." I ordered sharply, too softly for anyone to hear over the sudden din of what I assumed were orcs. Mori took off, immediately following orders for once, and landed upon a ledge at the very top of the room. She would be safe there.

"They have a cave troll." Boromir informed us, exasperation and worry warring in his voice.

"What's the difference between a troll and a cave troll?" I wondered aloud, grabbing an ax and handing it to Aragorn.

"One lives in a cave!" He snapped as Legolas threw him an ax, trying to bar the door. I rolled my eyes; pulling out my sword and glancing back at the hobbits who did the same. Reaching down into my boot, I stood in a half crouch close to the elf and Boromir who had moved back to stand with the other warriors in a loose half circle.

"Let them come! There's one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" Gimli cried. The doors began to give with the weight of the weapons bashed against the outside. Sword held loosely in my left hand, I held the throwing knife in my right, cursing my lack of bow for the hundredth time. A hole appeared in one of the large doors, and Legolas let loose an arrow, hitting one of the hideous monsters right in the eye. Boromir twirled his sword, reminding me of the boys in my training class. Eager to fight. I had a feeling it was all an act. No warrior was eager for a battle like this.

I flung my small knife through the small opening as soon as I saw another one of those monsters, years of training allowing me the fatal shot. With a small smile, I watched the orc go down, and I reached into my boot where the knives were strapped once more, repeating the motion and allowing a thrill of victory to rush through me. I'd worked hard to never miss. Hours spent in front of a training dummy were coming in handy. Next to shooting a bow, this was my best skill. Four more knives found targets before the doors came down, and all hell seemed to break loose.

I gave up on the knives, knowing they would do me little good in close combat, and switched my sword to my right hand. Although we trained with both hands, I had always favored my right. In my peripheral vision, I watched the two men battle with goblins and orcs, with Gimli still on top of the grave. Legolas was surprisingly good with a bow and arrow, even up close, and Gandalf was doing his best to protect the hobbits. Taking down another goblin that screeched and hit the ground after my sword sliced through its stomach, I turned to find the hobbits, grinning when Sam took down an orc with a large cast iron skillet. He had ingenuity on his side; I'd give him that. The others seemed to just dance around, hiding when possible, small swords stuck out like spears against the orcs that made it that far through the rest of us. I tried to keep an eye on them as I fought, grabbing my small throwing knives from where they were lodged in the heads of orcs whenever possible.

Then the remainder of the door was thrown open, wooden splinters flying, as one of the largest, ugliest creatures I had ever seen broke through. 'Cave troll.' I thought with a sigh. They were a little different than the ones that lived in the forest, or the occasional dungeon troll, but not by much. Large, stupid, and violent, these creatures killed without discretion and were mostly utilized by smaller but more intelligent monsters to do the killing for them. It had a chain around its throat, growling and snarling, lashing out without caring if it hit orcs or goblins on its way to us. I watched as Legolas steadied his bow, aiming for the creature's neck. Moving as quickly as I could through the fray, I covered him for a moment, trying to let him get his shot, but the creature only stumbled for a moment when the arrow found it's mark in his chest, chain in hand, and I realized that the chain had originally been used to secure the troll...now he used it as a weapon.

Sam dove between the troll's legs, and Aragorn took the opportunity to grab the slack in the chain. Focusing on helping, I covered them, glancing occasionally at the hobbits who seemed to be doing okay for the moment...it was obvious that they weren't trained fighters, but they were still alive at least. Boromir and Aragorn pulled at the same time, managing to knock the creature off balance for a moment. All around me were screams of battle; orcs decapitated by Gandalf, skewered by Frodo, or knocked out by Sam. Legolas continued to aim at the troll, attempting to get in a good shot, but the chain came loose, knocking Boromir into the wall, and the troll used a giant club that hung from his other hand to sweep broadly, knocking Gimli off of his tomb-pedestal.

Reaching into my boot to retrieve a throwing knife, I threw it at the orc that made its way up behind a dazed Boromir, giving him a brief smile of apology when his hand came up to his neck and found a spot of blood. My aim couldn't be perfect every time. But the orc had fared far worse, my knife between its eyes ending whatever plans he'd had. I reached down, wrenching it out from his skull and watched in awe as Legolas managed to step onto the troll's chain that had somehow caught on a pillar. Turning back to the fighting, I stopped short when a sword swung in front of me, killing a goblin that had been about to stick me with it's short sword. I rolled my eyes at the arrogant grin of Boromir, trying to place the hobbits once more in the mayhem. Merry and Pippin were yelling, and it was by their cries that I located the two with Frodo hiding behind one of the pillars. The others had been tied up with their own battles, but the troll was intent on the three.

No longer attached to the chain, the troll sniffed around the pillar, and I watched with a growing feeling of dread as the hobbits just managed to duck around the other side, barely avoiding its notice. It knew they were there...it just couldn't see them. Of course, luck in battle never holds. I leapt over the remnants of the tomb, not pausing when my ankle caught in the debris. The troll had Frodo by the leg and was dragging him, it's enraged roar filling the room. "Aragorn!" He cried, kicking uselessly as he was pulled over the ledge, and Aragorn just managed to land in front of them, using a large spike to drive into the troll's stomach. I grabbed Frodo's arm, helping him up and pulling him back.

"Here...hurry." I urged him, helping him back, sword at the ready, but another orc came for us, and I cursed aloud at the creatures that seemed to appear from the walls. The creature's giant arms flailed at the pain, knocking Aragorn aside just as I drove my own sword into the orc's throat. "Aragorn!" I took a step toward him when the troll turned his attention back to us, and I held my sword out, hiding Frodo as best I could. Why was it that all of the evil creatures we encountered seemed to zero in on the most important member of our party?

The stake was no longer in the troll's stomach. Instead, it had somehow found its way into its hand, and I called for Aragorn again, hoping to rouse him. I could certainly use some help here. The enraged creature roared once more, and I glanced up and caught Legolas's eye for a moment. He and Boromir were making their way over, but they would be too late. The elf dispatched the orc and ran for us, but we didn't have time. Swinging my sword with all my strength, I got a good stab in right above the wound in its stomach, but getting so close was, while necessary when fighting with a sword, ultimately dangerous. I ducked underneath the flailing hand, but the second one caught me on the side, knocking my head into the wall where I crumbled to the ground. I smelled the blood instantly, but managed to hold onto my sword, remembering that particular lesson well. Around me, events seemed to swirl until the arrow loosed by Legolas found the beast's throat, and will a lazy, muffled groan, it fell, flinging Merry and Pippin onto the ground.

"Frodo!" Sam knelt over his friend, despair hanging like a cloak around him, and I closed my eyes, wiping at the blood running down my cheek. He was dead. I had stood between him and a monster and I'd failed.

"Oh no." Aragorn whispered from where he'd crawled over. The others, too, stood in a half circle around his body, and Mori chose that moment to return to me from her hiding spot in the ceiling. She perched on my shoulder, nuzzling my ear.

"He's not dead, Anne girl." I didn't get a chance to ask what she meant...Frodo gasped suddenly, jerking in Aragorn's arms, and the man reached out a hesitant hand.

"He's alive." Sam near whispered, his own eyes closing, and I shook my head in disbelief.

"No way." I whispered, touching Mori's back with a blood-soaked hand, absent-mindedly stroking her feathers as I was wont to do. "It's not possible."

"I'm alright. I'm not hurt." Frodo assured us all, smiling weakly at Sam. The fellowship sighed a collective breath of relief, but we were all still confounded. Still, taking the opportunity with everyone focused on the hobbit, I used my shirt to wipe away the blood on my face, hoping I'd gotten it all.

"You should be dead." Aragorn spoke my thoughts aloud as I managed to pull myself to my feet, flinching a bit at the pain in my head, and a twinge in my ankle that must have resulted from my trip across the rubble to get to Frodo. Still, I'd had much worse. I would be fine in a few days, especially if I could find some familiar plants. My raven friend would most likely be able to help with that if we ever got out of this bloody gods-forsaken cave. Said bird was oddly silent as Aragorn continued to speak, observing all of us in the strange way she had when she knew something the rest of us didn't. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar." He was right. A wild boar, a centaur, even a spidren. No way a hobbit was as hardy as a cave troll.

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf observed quietly, and we all watched as Frodo unbuttoned his overshirt, revealing a fine chainmail like armor...but it was no chainmail I'd ever seen. It was almost white, shining and more beautiful than armor should be. I started to shake my head. Even chainmail would explain how he could still be alive.

"Mithril." Gimli whispered, reverence saturating his words, eyes wide in awe. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins." Before I could ask what exactly Mithril was and why everyone didn't have a shirt made of it if it was so miraculous, I heard the screams. Something, or quite a few somethings, were screeching and crying out in the distance...goblins probably. But Gandalf had gone pale, a look of horror in his eyes. There was something unspeakably evil in this mountain, and I had a feeling that we were about to meet it.

"To the bridge of Khazad-doom!"

Thank you for reading!


	12. Escape From Moria

With every step back into the large, dark room, my head throbbed and my ankle protested sharply. I pushed the thoughts away, hand clenching my sword still. Aragorn brought up the rear as we fled, and I hoped Gandalf knew where we were still. I wasn't much closer to the front of the group than Aragorn, and Mori screeched at me worriedly from my side where she flew, weaving between all of our heads. I shot the bird a look, keeping my teeth clenched and ordering my ankle to stop hurting. I didn't have time for this. Around us, goblins appeared and climbed down from the ceiling until the walls looked more like a mass of living things that crawled and jeered. Monsters surrounded us, weapons drawn, until we were forced to stop, forming a tight circle around the hobbits, the monsters shaking their weapons at our small group.

"Go Mori!" I shouted over the din, knowing my friend could escape. She didn't hesitate to do as I ordered. On one side of me, Boromir clutched his sword, looking grim, and on my other side, Legolas drew his bow, eyes narrow as he stared out at the monsters surrounding us. I clenched my jaw, gripping my sword as I waited. We were going to die. I had never been so sure of anything in my life. We had set out to protect Frodo and destroy the ring and we'd failed. I would never see my home again. Still, I would take as many of them down as I could before I died. I felt a tickle on the side of my face and wiped impatiently at the blood. Bloody head wounds. The curse made my smile a bit…or maybe it was the head wound making my brain fuzzy.

Suddenly, the beating of drums vibrated throughout the chamber, shaking the entire mine. I felt it deep in my chest as the ground beneath my feet shook. The din of the monsters stopped, and then they started again, chattering nervously and looking at one another. I looked at the others who looked just as surprised and confused as I felt…except for Gandalf who hunched his shoulders, his eyes closing, a look of sorrow and defeat crossing his face. And then the monsters scattered.

"What is this new devilment?" Boromir whispered as the room emptied of all but us, the creatures fleeing. The entrance to the chamber glowed red, and Mori perched on my shoulder once more. I had to agree with Boromir. Devilment. If monsters were afraid of whatever this was, I thought we should be too. Once more I was reminded that my head throbbed in time with the drumbeat. Finally, Gandalf answered Boromir's whispered question.

"A Balrog. A demon from the ancient world. It is a foe beyond any of you." He looked at each one of us, true fear in his eyes. "Run!" He cried suddenly, leading us once more as we all jumped into action, racing along behind him. All I could get my brain to focus on was that I had to run.

'Concussion.' my brain so helpfully supplied, and I blinked hard, not allowing that thought to remain. 'Keep running.' I told myself instead as we hurried up a staircase that crumbled as we climbed until we were forced to stop at a gap that seemed to be growing by the minute. Without hesitation, Legolas jumped across, landing easily on the other side, but the rest of us hesitated. I made the mistake of looking down, and I didn't know if it was the blood loss or the height that had my stomach turning…or rather, the depths. From where I stood, the chasm was bottomless. Quickly, I sheathed my sword. I would need both hands for this.

Legolas opened his arms, beckoning. "Gandalf!" He cried, gesturing for the wizard to jump. He did, gripping the elf that helped steady him and push him away from the ledge. Before anyone else could jump, Pippin cried out and jumped sideways against Boromir who gripped his shoulder, and Legolas easily shot down the goblin or orc whose arrow had nearly hit the hobbit.

"Merry, Pippin!" Boromir shouted, taking one hobbit under each arm and holding them tightly. He jumped just as the ground crumbled and gave way beneath them, landing safely on the other side. He turned back toward the rest of us who remained, gesturing for me to join them. I shook my head.

"Sam!" I insisted, pushing him ahead of me, and Aragorn tossed him across, right into Boromir's arms. The man helped him away from the edge. Once more, he turned toward me.

"Anne, now!" He called, but I shook my head once more.

"Frodo." I spoke sharply. There was no way I was going before Frodo was safe. As I argued with Boromir, Aragorn reached for Gimli who put a hand up.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf." Gimli growled, then took a running leap, almost making it. Desperate not to let the dwarf fall, Legolas reached out and caught him by the hair on his face. "Not the beard!" He cried, and I almost smiled as Legolas managed to get his arm and pull him up.

"Frodo!" I insisted again, staring at Aragorn who hesitated only for a second before tossing the hobbit as he had the others, right into Boromir's arms. But before the two of us could leap to safety, more of the stairs crumbled, almost causing me to slide off the ledge. Aragorn gripped my arm, pulling me back to his side, and for a second the world spun.

"Steady." He called. The others watched us in worry as a rock fell from somewhere above, slamming into the pillar that held us up. "Hold on!" I leaned with him, him leaning on his sword, me holding out an arm for balance and gripping him with my other one. I was glad I'd sheathed my sword, because otherwise I might have dropped it. Then, the small platform we stood on began to lean forward, and all the members of the fellowship save for Legolas and Boromir backed away. The elf and the man opened their arms, ready to catch the two of us as we fell toward them, the platform finally crashing into the side of the staircase. My stomach flew into my throat as we seemed to fly forward, and I closed my eyes, sure I would plummet to my death right before strong arms caught me.

I sighed in relief, leaning on Boromir for a second, gripping his arms tightly. "Thank you." I whispered, and he smiled briefly at me before we were all running again, not daring to stop for long. It was a flurry of activity, almost too much for me to keep up with as Aragorn and Legolas returned fire on the monsters that still shot at us.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf cried as they entered another room, and now I could see the bridge in the distance, if one could call it that. To me, it was more a narrow pathway over a giant chasm. I wondered briefly why the dwarves couldn't have made these paths wider.

Flames seemed to fill the room as we crossed. I stopped and let the hobbits go past, but Aragorn pushed my ahead of him, and I relented, following the others carefully as I ran. As I reached the other side, however, I realized that the others were all waiting, staring at something beyond both Aragorn and myself. Turning, I found that Gandalf was still in the middle of the bridge, and beyond him, on the other side but approaching quickly, was a monster, the likes of which I had never seen. The creature was huge, filling the room with smoke and fire, and it roared, standing on hind legs and vaguely resembling a minotaur. I shuddered, stepping forward instead backward against my instincts. 'We have to get out.' I thought desperately as Frodo shouted for Gandalf. 'He can't face this alone.' I drew my sword once more.

"You cannot pass!" The wizard shouted, holding out his staff and moving toward the monster. I took another step but was stopped by Gimli's hand on my arm. He shook his head mutely, horror reflected in his eyes.

"Gimli." I whispered, shaking my head in return, gripping my sword. "We have to do something."

"Our weapons are of no use here, lass." Frodo called again for the wizard who seemed to have forgotten us. On the bridge, Gandalf spoke to the creature as it towered over him, something about secret fire. I reached up, wiping again at my head, brushing the blood away impatiently.

The creature drew a sword larger than a man, holding it above it'd head, and I felt my blood run cold. Still, Gandalf stood his ground. Once more he shouted about fire and flame, but all I could hear was the roar of the Balrog…or maybe the roaring was in my ears. I couldn't tell. Bloody head wound. The thought made my smile again, then wonder at my own inappropriate responses in such situations. "Go back to the shadow." Gandalf commanded, and for just a second, I felt a stirring of hope. Maybe that would work. But the creature pulled out a whip, striking close enough to Gandalf that I felt the head against my face from the other side of the bridge. The giant monster put a hoof down on the bridge, making the ground shake. "You shall not pass!" Gandalf cried, voice full of authority. And then the bridge collapsed under the weight, crumbling into rocks and pebbles that gave under the monster that disappeared from view.

For a second, I thought it would be alright. For a second, I sighed in relief. It was over. Until the whip cracked again, catching Gandalf and pulling him down, his hands barely hanging onto the ledge. Before we could reach him, he stared up at us, speaking so that we could all hear. "Fly, you fools." And then he let go. Frodo was screaming and Boromir was yelling and Aragorn stared in disbelief at the ledge. Gandalf was dead. He was gone. Our leader was gone.

Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me back, but it was Mori, landing on my shoulder and pecking hard at my cheek that got me moving. I ran. I ran for my life because never before had I seen anything like that monster, and I never wanted to again. My ankle threatened to give, but I reminded myself that behind me lay fire and death and a monster waiting to pull me into a chasm with no bottom.

We erupted into the daylight, and my eyes almost refused to open in the bright light. Around me everyone stumbled or froze or dropped to their knees, but I kept moving until I was gripping a boulder in my path, hands splayed out in front of me, all my weight off my ankle as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I dropped my head against the giant rock, then turned, sliding to sit on the ground.

The hobbits cried. Merry and Pippin sat together, leaning on one another. Legolas stood on a rock, staring down at the ground, his eyes tight, lips pulled back in a disbelieving grimace. Gimli paced, ranting and yelling words I could not hear over the swirling, whooshing in my head until Boromir embraced him, his face grim and sad as he shushed his friend. I closed my eyes, dropping my head on my knees and waiting out the pain and fear and vertigo, until Aragorn's sure voice filled the air.

"Legolas, get them up." I looked up at Aragorn's order to find Legolas's face full of surprise and reluctance. Hesitantly, he moved over to the two hobbits while Boromir stood over Sam. Halfheartedly he held out a hand that both hobbits ignored, and he stood there awkwardly for a moment, not speaking as he waited for one of them to accept his help. I wondered briefly where Frodo was before turning to find him in the distance, standing and starting out away from us.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir snapped at Aragorn, the reprimand sharp.

"By nightfall this hills will be swarming with orcs." Aragorn called reasonably, his voice traveling over to where I sat. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!" He reached down to Sam himself, pulling him up and patting him on the back. "On your feet, Sam." I sighed, about to haul myself up when a hand appeared in front of my face. Boromir didn't even look at me as he helped me up. Everyone was preoccupied as they stared straight ahead, still in shock or lost in sorrow. Legolas had a hand on Merry's shoulder, steering the hobbit forward, and Pippin followed his friend's lead. I brushed blood away again, pushing away the feeling of light-headedness with it as I wondered how hard I'd hit that wall. My ankle had ceased to bother me, thankfully, or maybe I'd just gotten used to it. Either way, I had a feeling the walking wasn't over by a long shot.

I was right. Aragorn led us forward, moving purposefully. Frodo lagged behind with me, and I wondered if he, too, was sore from that fight. It was probable that he had been bruised despite his magic shirt. We did our best to hurry along with the others until Aragorn seemed to notice and slowed down a little, turning back toward us in concern. I hoped he would think I was just keeping pace with Frodo, and I turned toward the hobbit too. It seemed to work.

"Frodo?" He asked, seeming to pull everyone back to the present. I looked at the ring bearer who was pale and drawn, his eyes haunted, his lips failing to turn up in recognition of the question. Instead the hobbit just stared at Aragorn. "Are you hurt?" He shook his head, touching his side.

"Only a bruise." Frodo dismissed it, gesturing to where the cave troll had stabbed him. Aragorn nodded, glancing at me, and I was glad for the darkness of the forest, and for everyone's preoccupation with their own thoughts that had kept them from noticing the blood in my hair. I would need to wash that out soon. Mori was the only one who'd noticed, and the bird had kept quiet, only riding on my other shoulder, head tucked against my neck. For once, I didn't complain. My hair did a good job hiding whatever wound had been given to me by the stone walls of Moria. My ankle I could ignore for a while longer. And again we set off, this time at a more reasonable pace, which I appreciated greatly.

Deeper and deeper we moved into the forest until the darkness was almost as it had been in Moria…only this was different, and I knew it. This was fresh air, and if I looked up, peering through the canopy, I knew the sky was on the other side. The forest was old and felt safe to me, like the forest where I'd grown up. Anne Woods…I was named after the place where trees congregated.

Briefly, we paused, each of us leaning against trees or sitting. I fought a wave of sickness and the feeling of heat spreading through my limbs. Breathing deeply, I leaned on the trunk of a huge tree, resting my head and taking deep breaths. Aragorn was speaking to Boromir, but it was a blur to me. I had to fight to stay standing as my head spun. 'No.' I spoke silently to myself, my own voice sharp and loud as my aunt's had been. 'You will not hold them up. You are a warrior. Act like one.'

"Anne?" The soft voice startled me, and I opened my eyes, barely able to make out Legolas in the dim light. Some sunlight could make it through these trees, but the sun seemed to be setting. I was still unsure of the time, thanks to days spent in the mines, but we had been traveling for hours now, and I assumed it was nearing dusk. The elf held out a piece of bread to me, and I took it with quiet thanks, ignoring the concern he was showing. Trying to put him off thoughts of inquiring if I was alright, or worse, yet, having everyone stop for me, I thanked him and took a healthy bite of the bread.

It seemed to work, and I hoped he would just think I was hungry. But the delicious bread sat like lead in my stomach, and I handed the leftover bread to Pippin who, despite his sorrow, still seemed to possess a healthy appetite. The bread did seem to have helped, however, as the heat was receding and my vision cleared a little. I took deep breaths and readied myself to move again. Before long, Aragorn stood and we all followed him without question.

From the back of the group, I wondered if Aragorn knew where he was leading us, where this Lothlorien was, and if I would ever see my home again. Deep in the woods, surrounded by a blanket of sorrow and pain, it seemed as though hope had left us. Our leader was dead, and although Aragorn seemed willing to pick up where the wizard had left off, I wondered if he, too, knew the best way to Moria.

I was behind Gimli and Frodo when the dwarf took the hobbit's arm and spoke urgently about an hour later. "Stay close young hobbit. They say there's a great sorceress lives in these woods." Whatever other warnings he gave were lost to me as a voice spoke inside my head.

"Anne." It hissed, a woman's voice. I looked around, but all I could see were trees and the others who walked ahead of me. My hand went down to my fighting fan, ready to slice at whatever came close. I held it tightly, one hand going up to stroke Mori despite my aching head. For a moment, things seemed to blur, and I took deep breath to push back the dizziness. I didn't have time for that.

"You're hurt, Anne girl." The bird mumbled, another voice speaking to my in the silence. No one turned, so I assumed I was the only one to hear it.

"I'm not going to hold us up, Mori." I whispered, stroking my friend's back.

"You don't belong here." The voice whispered again, but it wasn't an accusation…more of an observation. I grimaced…I hated mind tricks like this. Before I could react, however, Mori screeched and there was an arrow being pointed at my face. Behind the arrow was the fair, beautiful face of an elf. Glancing incredulously over at the others, I found they too had arrows pointed at them, their weapons at the ready, all except Aragorn who put his hand up. Legolas, had his own bow drawn, eyes narrow with something like irritation.

A tall, blond elf stepped forward then, his eyes traveling over all of us in detached amusement. He reminded me of Legolas, only considerably less friendly. Somehow I'd thought all elves would be as welcoming as lord Elrond. "The dwarf breathes so loudly we could have shot him in the dark." The strange elf spoke, looking then at Legolas and relaxing a little, and Legolas dropped his bow. I sighed at they spoke to one another in their own language, and again when Aragorn joined in. At the noise, the other elves turned to me, sharp eyes narrowed in confusion or suspicion. I couldn't tell. All I knew was that I wanted to lie down, preferably in a bed, and these elves had to sleep somewhere. Were they friends or not?

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves!" Gimli snapped. "Speak so that we can all understand." I grinned despite the disapproving gaze of Aragorn.

"Here here." I spoke up, moving to stand by Gimli, heedless of the arrows pointed my way. I shouldered one out of the way, giving a cold look to the one who shifted to point his arrow at my face once more. I was growing tired of this. Tightening my grip on my fan, I unfurled the weapon, bringing it up quickly and slicing the head off the arrow in my face. The elf jumped back a little, eyes wide, but the others pulled their arrows back as though to shoot me, moving closer as they watched me warily. I glared at them, daring them to try as I held my fan. They would probably kill me, but it was the principle of the thing now. Intimidation grated on my nerves. "Point that thing somewhere else, master elf, or you'll lose more than just your arrow." I snapped.

"Lady Anne." I glanced over at Aragorn who stared at me, eyes narrow. Rolling my eyes at the reproach in his face, I snapped the fan shut, slipping it back into my belt and crossing my arms like an irritable child. I couldn't help it. My head was throbbing steadily and my vision seemed to swim in and out of focus. The elf who had spoken turned to Frodo then, apparently ignoring my behavior, and narrowing his eyes. "You bring great evil here." He told the hobbit before looking back at Aragorn. "You may come no further."

Once, in practice, two boys in the year above Ron had ganged up on him. I had come around the corner to find him, back against the wall, a boy of only eleven, as the older boys shoved at him, taunting him and laughing, declaring he'd never be a knight, much less the king. Of course, he could have had his father do something about them, but he knew that the boys would only redouble their efforts if he had his father intervene. None of the rest of them had parents at the palace to protect them. It wasn't until a few years later than Ronald had come into his own, realizing the power he had and putting an end to the bullying.

Ron had been my only friend, and to see him pushed into a corner, hurt and scared and embarrassed, had made my blood boil. The resulting explosion of my temper had led to a broken nose (mine) three broken ribs (also mine) and a black eye (the oldest boy's). All in all, it hadn't gone over well. Still, despite my finger pressed into the scar on my palm, and despite numerous lessons growing up about keeping my tongue, I felt it building again, possibly because I was still bleeding, my ankle was throbbing, and, mostly importantly, Frodo was staring at the grass at his feet as though he hoped it would open and swallow him, just as my friend had been all those years ago.

"How dare you!" It was meant to be a statement. A cold, controlled statement that would merely pique his interest. It wasn't. It was a scream. A wild, exhausted, desperate scream, and I didn't care. My vision swam. Beside Gimli, I thought I heard Boromir sigh, as he had when Pippin had knocked that dwarf skeleton into the well. This time, I was the embarrassment…the liability. But I'd already begun my half-planned speech. "How dare you speak to him like that? Of course he's carrying great evil! We are trying to destroy it!" The other elves had lowered their weapons, but they seemed on their way to pointing them at me again. The one whose arrow I had cut looked as though he were itching to put an arrow in me. "We are trying to save yourworld, but you are too much of a coward to give us shelter!?" At this, the elf's eyes widened incredulously and he took a step forward. Aragorn tried to interject, saying my name softly, but I continued anyway. "We have been walking for months! We lost someone in that bloody mine, you inconsiderate, cruel…" And here, I inserted a curse in my own language, one my aunt had used quite frequently, and even as I told myself it wasn't called for, my exhausted, aching head told me it didn't care in the least. Context, of course, provided the elf with its intended meaning, and the offense was clear on his face. "And now, where are we to go? Will you really turn us away when we are being chased by such evil? The dwarves of Moria showed us more mercy, more hospitality, and they were dead!"

All at once, the fight left me, and I sighed, turning to Frodo and dropping a hand on his shoulder, ashamed to feel my eyes hot and wet. I would not cry. Not in front of this elf. Aragorn spoke then, quiet and apologetic, but Gimli touched my arm with a smile and a nod. I may not have won our case, but Frodo, too, was giving me a weak, grateful look. The elves, however, were eying my dubiously, and I rolled my eyes. Mori quietly called me a fool, and I gave the bird a glare, only to turn back to find the elf staring at my in apparent confusion. Mori then jumped, her wings spread as she landed on the elf's shoulder, her beak coming to rest on his ear as she, presumably, whispered to him. I didn't bother asking. Mori did whatever she wanted. I just hoped it was enough to get them into whatever city these elves lived in and into a bed.

"You will come with me." The elf finally spoke, and I sighed softly in relief. If my speech hadn't helped, at least it hadn't ruined our chances of seeking shelter. Aragorn was watching me with disapproval, but I couldn't be bothered to care. All I could think about was a bed, of getting somewhere safe to rest.

We were led through a city who's sights I could barely take in thanks to the black spots that infringed on the edge of my vision, to a group of elves that wanted to know about Gandalf. It all seemed too complicated for me to follow. Staying upright in itself was providing quite the challenge. I stood amongst the others, waiting to be told where I could sleep. I was hot…too hot to focus on much else. In front of us, a beautiful female elf watched my closely. Lifting a hand, she gestured for someone, speaking softly. Or maybe she spoke aloud. The blackness in my vision was taking over, and no amount of deep breathing seemed to be helping.

Mori screeched from my shoulder, making me flinch a bit at the loud noise right at my ear. Bringing a hand up, I tried to quiet her, but missed and touched my hair instead. A presence was suddenly at my side, and I felt a hand take my arm in a firm grip. "Haldir!" Aragorn spoke sharply, and the hobbits began to speak at once, saying something about doing something wrong…or nothing wrong. I couldn't really tell. A sword was drawn, and I blinked sharply, trying to keep up with what was going on. Gimli growled something, but I was so hot…the last thing I saw was my own hand as I dropped it from my head, covered in bright red blood. "Bloody head wounds." I murmured irritably as someone caught me, and then I let myself sleep.


	13. Waking in Lothlorien

I woke to sunlight streaming through the window. For a long time, I kept my eyes closed, waiting. Listening. I assumed Mori was in the room, but I couldn't feel her nearby. It was a habit I'd picked up when I lived with my aunt…assess the situation before letting other's know you're awake. I did not hear anyone nearby…no breathing or footsteps, but I did hear the distant sounds of running water. And then I heard a soft tapping on the window. Relaxing a little, I cracked my eyes open and peered around the dim room, wondering what time it was. It was impossible to tell…the only light coming in was through a crack in the nearly closed curtains that allowed the sunbeams to shine directly at my eyes. I was in a nice, comfortable bed, and my mind struggled to fill in the gaps. I remembered shouting at an elf. I vaguely remembered a meeting. And then I remembered Gandalf. Sitting upright, I rubbed my eyes.

The tapping at the window continued, but I ignored it in favor of bringing a hand up to my head, finding a soft bandage there. I pulled the blanket up and frowned when I realized that I was in a long, soft robe. Equally upset that someone had changed my clothes and hoping that I could keep the robe, I flexed my ankle, smiling in satisfaction when it barely twinged. I ignored the feeling, throwing my legs over and placing them gingerly on the ground, looking around for my bag. But the tapping continued steadily and I stepped over to the window, careful of my hurt leg. Pulling back the curtain I found a familiar black bird tapping irritably at my window. I smiled, unlatching it and pushing it open, and the bird flew into my arms.

"You gave us a scare, Anne girl." She told me, landing on my hand and nuzzling me under my chin.

"Us?" I asked, stroking Morrigan's feathers and scratching gently under her chin.

"The hobbits especially. This is what happens when you smash your head against a wall and then walk all day." The bird scolded.

"I hardly had a choice." I reminded her, going to sit again. "Where are the others? Also, who brought me here?"

"The elves. Haldir, it seems, it quite skilled in medicine. I stood on his shoulder and made certain he was doing everything right."

"Of course you did." I smiled fondly, stretching out my leg and wishing I had been conscious to witness that.

"He said it was quite the head injury."

"Yes, well, stone walls aren't known for being soft." I focused on stretching, lifting my hands over my head and then dropping to sit on the bed, the bird moving from my shoulder back down to my arm. "How long was I asleep?"

"If I did not know any better, I would think you were speaking to yourself." I jumped, every muscle tensing at the elf that was suddenly very close. "However, I did have the pleasure of a very long conversation with that bird." I turned to glance up at the elf entering my room, trying to hide how I'd stiffened when he spoken, although I was sure he had noticed. Mori tilted her head at him.

"Haldir." The bird greeted. He did smile then, bowing slightly toward the bird.

"Morrigan." I lifted an eyebrow, glancing at my friend, but she didn't speak. Haldir, however, did, answering my question. "You were asleep for little more than a full night, although it would be best for you to sleep for another." I did not ask who had changed my clothes, as I had been planning. I didn't want to have that conversation in front of the elf. Instead, I sat in silence as he watched me, waiting for him to speak again, my body stiff and tense. "Your friend tells me you are from a land far away…that the two of you journeyed very far to join this quest."

I didn't respond as he moved closer, a hand outstretched as if to touch my head. I stiffened even more, leaning back every so slightly and locking eyes with him warily. I did not know this elf, and had no reason at all to trust him, despite the voice whispering in my voice that he had given me medical care…I hadn't been conscious for that, so it did not count. He frowned, pausing and dropping his hand to his side I didn't have a weapon handy, and if it came to hand to hand combat, I had no idea what I was up against. If he were anything like Legolas, I wouldn't stand much of a chance unarmed. So I made my unease clear until he spoke again. "May I?"

"The injury seems to be all but healed." I told him simply, hoping the message was clear. I didn't trust him. Not yet.

"Most elves receive some training in the healing arts, and Aragorn was trained by elves as well. Much of his youth was spent among our kind. I am sure, had he and Legolas not been so…preoccupied, one of them would have taken care of the injury immediately." He told me, hands folded in front of him once more.

"Frodo was hurt too." I said instead of replying, taking the opportunity to scoot away just a bit more. He obviously noticed. "Is he well?"

"He carries great sorrow." The elf told my softly, dropping his eyes for a moment. "As for the bruising, every one of you was injured in some small way. All have been given care. Save for you, who seems to reject it now that you are awake."

I pulled my hair back then, turning to him and silently inviting him to pull the bandages away. He did, approaching slowly as though I were a skittish horse. I kept my face calm, not reacting when he touched the skin around the cut gently, even though every sense was on alert. I wished again for my knife, or a sword…even the fan would do right now. "You seem to remember everything, so no permanent damage was done." He surmised, pulling away. "The others were quite distraught when you collapsed. No one seemed to know you were injured. They believed we were having you taken away and were quite upset."

"Upset." The bird laughed. "They all thought the elves were having you arrested, Anne girl." Mori put in, and from the way Haldir glanced at my with a half smile, I knew he could understand the bird. "Gimli drew his ax, ready to defend you, and Sam was shouting that you'd done nothing wrong…then you collapsed. They were really angry then."

I grinned, leaning back a bit as though making myself comfortable. "Start from the beginning, Mori. I want to know how my friends all made war with the elves giving us shelter over my honor." The elf laughed then, a soft sound as the bird puffed up, preening her feathers and preparing to tell the story. I noticed that when he laughed, he seemed to soften, and I felt my guard lower just a bit. Holding my arm out, I watched as Mori began her story, looking at the two of us.

"The lady ordered Haldir here to take you away, but failed to say where. She noticed you were about to collapse before the meeting had even begun."

"I thought I heard her in my mind." I told the bird wryly, displeased by this. I hated the thought of anyone rooting around in my brain. Haldir snorted softly.

"We could all tell you were unwell without hearing your thoughts. I knew it from the moment you spoke to me. You did a good job of disguising it, though. And one of our warriors lost an arrow to you."

"I will send him my deepest apologies as soon as possible." I told him as I rolled my eyes, and he smiled. "I will even replace the arrow, if he promises not to point it at me again."

"Ahem." The bird made a strange, gurgling noise that, I supposed, was supposed to be her clearing her throat. Sometimes I swore she thought she was human.

"Sorry." I told her with a smile. "Go on."

"Anyway, Haldir here came and tried to lead you away, and the hobbits started yelling, saying you had done nothing wrong and that they could not take you. And then, Boromir drew his sword, and Legolas had an arrow on Haldir, demanding he release you. Aragorn stepped in, insisting that you were a member of the fellowship and that they could not take you away. Gimli drew his ax and was about to attack Haldir when you collapsed." Thankfully, my raven friend avoided the word 'fainted' to save me some embarrassment. "Haldir caught you and managed to protect you from another head injury. The hobbits were beyond distraught. Pippin asked if you were going to die." I had to laugh softly at that, feeling sorry for poor Pippin.

"Haldir informed them that you were injured, and that you needed medical attention. Aragorn offered to help, but Lady Galadriel insisted Haldir was capable and that she needed to speak to them. So you were taken to this room and Haldir attended to your injury. Nothing untoward happened, I can attest to that." I snorted, but Mori continued. "The others have not seen you yet, although the hobbits are all waiting out in the courtyard as we speak, as is Boromir. I believe Frodo feels as though he is at fault." I frowned at that, my good mood disappearing.

"Mori, go assure everyone that I'm not going to die and tell them to rest. I've done worse to myself in training."

"It's not doing it to yourself if someone pushes you down the stairs." Mori grumbled and I smiled at my friend as she took flight.

"Do I have your permission to get up now?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow, and the elf stepped away.

"I thought perhaps it was the head injury to cause you to speak out of turn in such a way. I suppose that isn't the case." He sounded as though he were resigned to something terrible.

"No. I rarely speak any other way." I agreed easily, standing and stretching.

"You have missed the first meal of the day, but I will have something brought to you." He turned away while I stretched, but before he reached the door, I called out, a bit sheepishly. Perhaps I had not needed to be so wary of him.

"Haldir, right?" I asked.

"Yes?" He asked, turning back to me. I smiled at him, a rueful, almost apologetic smile, and bowed slightly.

"Thank you, my lord." I spoke genuinely, and that did draw a smile from the elf.

"You are welcome here, lady Anne. We must not have you doubting our hospitality. I believe you will see we have more of it to offer than long deceased dwarves." I laughed ruefully; glad I hadn't already made an enemy in this place.

I waited until he had left the room to continue stretching, rotating my ankle and putting weight on it tentatively. When Mori returned a while later, the bird squawked disapprovingly from her perch on the window, and I rolled my eyes. "Yes?" I asked, resuming my search for my bag.

"You should be resting, Anne. You heard Haldir."

"Yes, yes." I sighed, finally locating it on the other side of the beautiful, giant, silken-curtain-surrounded bed. "Who put me into this robe?"

"A female elf. She came in with Haldir when you were brought in. Worry not, Anne girl, your dignity and honor are intact." I rolled my eyes once more.

"Thank you, Mori. Is everyone alright?"

"The hobbits are still upset. Boromir is waiting with Frodo and Sam outside. I told them you would not be dying any time soon, but they insisted on waiting for you."

"Wonderful. Thank you." I opened my bag, finding only my spare clothing. I managed to dress in a long shirt and hose, leaving most of my weapons in the bag. I found all my knives and my sword by my boots, and the fan in my bag. Slipping the fan into my belt, I moved over to where Mori perched and invited her to stand on my arm. "Where do you think the breakfast is?"

" I believe breakfast is coming with the elves Haldir promised to send."

"Come, Mori! Wouldn't you rather explore this beautiful city?" I asked, gesturing grandly at the window as I pulled back the curtain. Mori shook her head.

"No, Anne. Eat first. Explore later." I smiled, stroking the stern bird's head and then sitting on the bed.

"Alright, Mori. Food first. Then we will find the others." I paused, my mind going back to Gandalf. "What are we going to do now?" The bird cocked her head. "Can Aragorn lead us?"

"Aragorn can be trusted. Completely." I stared down at the bird for a moment, then nodded, but before I could ask her to elaborate, there was a soft knock at the door, and a female elf stood in my doorway.

"Lady Anne?"

"Um…just Anne, my lady. Thank you." I bowed deeply to the elf that placed the tray of food onto the low table by my bed.

"Your companions are in the courtyard outside." The elf informed me. "All of their rooms are close by. We hope you will be comfortable here."

"Thank you, my lady." I murmured, bowing once more, and the female elf gave me a soft smile before leaving me to my breakfast, which I immediately began to eat. As I ate, I realized I had not really eaten anything since leaving Moria, apart from a few bites of bread, and that thought brought my back to thoughts of Gandalf. The wizard who was supposed to lead all of us to Moria. The leader of our fellowship. How would we go on now? Mori assured me that Aragorn was a capable leader; I hoped it was true.

Once the food was done, I cleaned my teeth, drained the water glass left on the tray, and let my hair down. Briefly, I wondered if I could find a place to bathe in this city. Surely they had a bathhouse…or something? I wasn't sure of the customs. My long hair hung down almost to my waist when I let it down, but I didn't feel like winding the spiked strap back in. Instead, I left it down as I slipped my feet into the boots and left the beautiful, comfortable room in search of my companions.

Frodo and Sam sat on a bench in the courtyard, their backs to me as they gazed at the fountain. It truly was a beautiful city. Benches and trees, flowering plants I'd never seen before, surrounded the stone fountain in the courtyard where the hobbits sat, heads together as they spoke quietly. At the edge of the courtyard, a familiar man paced, his brow pinched in worry. I headed over to the bench where the hobbits sat, placing my hand on the edge and smiling gently down at them. "Hello, Frodo. Sam." I greeted softly, and then looked up at me with matching sad, relieved smiles.

"Are you alright?" Frodo asked softly. I smiled.

Crouching down and shaking off their offer to let me sit, I rested my elbows on my knees, my hair touching the ground. "I am perfectly alright. You should not have worried." I scolded gently. "Are you alright?" His eyes lowered then, and Sam glanced between us. "Your side." I clarified.

"I'm alright."

"It wasn't your fault." I reminded him. "Any of it. This evil would need to be destroyed, with or without you, Frodo. This journey would have been made, lives lost…regardless of who came." I touched his shoulder. "No one blames you for this."

"We thought they had you locked up in some elvish dungeon. Plans were being drawn to come to your rescue." I smiled, straightening as Boromir approached.

"Yes. Mori told me it was all very dramatic." I glanced over at the raven that had flown down to join me, perching on Boromir's shoulder and pulling at his hair.

"It seems you survived."

"Of course. When are we leaving?" He smiled, but his eyes were sad and tired.

"We are staying for a few days at least. We all need the rest." I nodded, looking down at the hobbits briefly. "You especially." He was watching me carefully as though I might collapse again. Frowning a bit in discomfort, I waved away his concern.

"As soon as the others are ready, I will be as well." I told him carefully, and he smirked a little.

"Of course." Sighing, I lowered myself onto a bench a little way away from the two hobbits and stared at the water as it flowed through the fountain. He joined me after a moment, elbows on the back of the bench as he watched me. On the other side of the courtyard, the hobbits spoke quietly together. I wondered if they were talking about Gandalf.

"Were you able to find something to eat?"

"Yes. It seems Lord Haldir was eager to show off the hospitality of the elves." He smiled a bit.

"You did say they were less hospitable than dead dwarves." I felt my cheeks heat at the reminder and turned away, sighing. "Regardless, we are welcome here, and we can all rest."

"And then?" I asked, looking up at him.

"And then we will continue to Mordor." I nodded, watching his face closely. He seemed fine with the idea, although I wondered if he would want to be the one to lead us. He and Aragorn seemed, for the most part, to get along, but I worried that, now that we needed a new leader, the two would compete for the honor.

"How well did you know him? Gandalf?" I asked softly enough that the hobbits would not hear.

"I knew of him. We had met perhaps once before the council in Rivendell." I nodded, hands clasped as I watched the water flow. "He was one of the most powerful wizards in all Middle Earth." He looked over at me, hands clasped, elbows resting on my knees. "And in your land?"

"I have never met anyone like Gandalf. Wizards here are much different than the Mages of my land. In my land, mages are humans with a Gift. I don't know of any elves or dwarves…only humans and immortals. Monsters, mostly." He was still watching my closely.

"You should be resting, my lady."

"Anne." I corrected automatically. "And I am perfectly fine, Boromir. I've rested enough."

"You cry in your sleep." I glanced up, eyes narrow as I took in the seemingly random statement.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"At night. Not always…but often enough." I stiffened, reaching up and stroking Mori's feathers. The bird had hopped over to my shoulder, nuzzling my neck as she did when I was uncomfortable. "What do you dream of? You are quite young to have memories so horrible you would have nightmares about them." He wondered lightly.

"That's rather personal, my Lord. Besides, when I was eleven, I left home to train to become a knight, the only little girl among boys. You can imagine how they felt about it. I have an abundance of horrible memories."

"Is that why you cry at night?" He persisted.

"Because little boys were mean to me? No." I stared out across the courtyard, at the two hobbits I was sworn to protect. As was Boromir. We were the only ones in the open courtyard surrounded by buildings built up in the trees. It seemed as though the entire city was in the trees. I wondered if I would get a chance to explore…how long we would stop here. I felt awful about Gandalf, but I had barely known the man…wizard. I was more worried about how we would get to Mordor now that our leader was dead.

"When I was six, my mother took her own life. I found her." I told him softly, speaking the words aloud for the first time since I'd spoken to Ron. What could it hurt, I thought as I revealed the truth. Glancing over at him, I saw the blood drain from his face, eyes widening as he turned to look at me. "Like I said, plenty of horrible memories, my Lord." Standing, I brushed my hair back, moving over to the fountain and dipping a hand in the cool water.

"I…I apologize…"

"You haven't done anything to apologize for, my Lord. You wanted to know why I have nightmares. I gave you an answer." I perched on the edge, smiling back at him. "Surely you have some horrible memories of your own. You are, after all, much older than me."

"I am sorry for your loss, my Lady." He told me solemnly, not rising to the bait.

"Anne." I corrected for, perhaps, the twentieth time. He smiled briefly at me, as he always did. "Where are the others?" He shook his head as though shaking off our briefly somber conversation.

"I am not sure. Aragorn and Legolas were waiting with us, but I believe Aragorn went to get some rest, and Legolas is speaking with the elves. I followed little of the conversation…I never learned elvish. Merry and Pippin are in their rooms as far as I know. Your feathered friend came out to tell us you were alright, and the hobbits had barely slept, so they left. Frodo and Sam should sleep now too. It's been quite hard on them. They were close to Gandalf…closer than any of us. He visited the hobbits often. They all admired him greatly, especially Frodo." I glanced at Frodo and Sam again where they sat together on the bench, heads together as they spoke quietly together.

"They will be alright. We'll make it to Mordor and we'll be done with this ring once and for all."

"And then you will return home?" I glanced up at him, smiling briefly, eyes far away as I gazed into the distance.

"I suppose I will. Still, I believe it will take quite a while for this quest to be complete. We have plenty more ground to cover before we reach Mount Doom."

"Yes."

I stood then, bowing slightly. "Enjoy your rest, my Lord."

"And you, lady Anne." I rolled my eyes as I turned, heading through the maze of buildings built high in the treetops, my bird friend flying overhead as I sought out the new leader of our party.

It was difficult to find Aragorn amongst the elves. They congregated in small groups that watched my curiously as I walked by. I offered them brief smiles, hurrying past and keeping an eye out for the tall man with dark hair amongst these fair creatures. Around them, I felt like a clumsy cave troll. But it was Legolas, not Aragorn I found in the throng of elves, and I sighed in relief. "Good morning, Legolas." He turned and smiled warmly at me, eyes soft.

"It is good to see you up, Anne." He placed a hand on my shoulder, turning slightly from the elves he had been speaking to. They gave me half smiles, stepping away and giving us a modem of privacy. "Had any of us realized you were injured…" I brushed off his guilty half-apology.

"We were trying to escape an abandoned mine and a demon from the depths of the earth. I don't blame you at all for not noticing. I was perfectly alright."

"You collapsed." He reminded me.

"I…needed a moment of rest." That pulled another smile from him and he laughed quietly. Everything was done quietly here, and it was putting me on edge. "Where are we, exactly?" I wondered, deliberately not speaking softly.

"Lothlorien." He answered. "The realm of Lady Galadriel."

"Another elvish city?" I asked. He nodded, smiling lightly. I wondered if he was happy to be amongst his own kind once more. "Is this what your home looks like?"

"Mirkwood? In a way. We all dwell in the forests and in the treetops like most hobbits live underground, dwarves live in mines, and men build castles on the ground."

"It is beautiful here." I looked around once more, noticing the glances I continued to garner. "I do not believe they are accustomed to seeing humans here."

"No. Not many men…or women, visit this place."

"I thought elves were kind and welcoming."

"Because lord Elrond was kind and welcoming?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow. I nodded, a bit sheepish. "Are all the men in your land kind and welcoming?"

"I was the only woman among men. No one was kind or welcoming." I laughed. "Apart from Ron…he was the prince then. My only friend for my first two years in that place. He's the king now." I spoke softly, eyes far away, then remembered the conversation, scolding myself silently for letting my talk with Boromir bring my past to the forefront of my thoughts. "Regardless, I see your point."

"Elves are not necessarily hospitable to the outside world…we are…rather careful about who we allow into our cities." He elaborated, tactfully avoiding the topic I had brought up and then brushed away.

I tilted my head, curious. "Are you afraid of the outside world?"

"Not all of us."

"Just like not all of you hate dwarves?" He lifted an eyebrow but didn't answer, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Gimli is a good friend, despite being a dwarf. And speaking of good friends, where is Aragorn?"

"He is speaking with Haldir. It will be several days before we are ready to leave. Orcs surround the areas near here, and we need to wait until we are sure they are not following us. With only nine of us, and four are hobbits, we would never be able to fight off an army on our own. We need their protection." I had to nod in agreement. Only five of us were warriors, and my experience with fighting orcs was limited to the mines of Moria. We needed an army. The thought made me sigh. No army would help us, or else an army would have been sent to do this. Or maybe an entire army couldn't be trusted with such a task.

"Perhaps you should rest." Legolas suggested, looking me over carefully. I shook my head.

"I need to stretch. Best to always be ready." I pulled out the fan, clutching it tightly in my hand. "I will see you in time for the midday meal?" He nodded, dropping his head in a short, informal bow, and I waved, hurrying off to find somewhere to practice with my fan.

It was in the clearing I had found tucked away from the other buildings, practicing with my fan, that Aragorn and Haldir found me. I had removed my boots. It was too difficult to do the dance in boots. Two years into my training, a woman had visited from the island where such weapons were made and used widely by women of the court. When we had struck up a friendship, she taught me the dance, then how to make the weapons myself. It was more of a game than a dance, actually, but it was a good way to stretch, and I'd spent hours practicing with her, and then alone.

I stood in the clearing, twirling and throwing the sharp-edged fan into the air, then catching it easily over and over again. Had I had a friend to play the game with, we would have tossed it back and forth, but since I was the only one in my party that had any knowledge of this game, I played alone. I stretched up on my toes, reaching up as far as I could, the fan's razor edge glinting in the sunlight, and threw it up a little higher. Spinning twice, I caught it again, following the rhythm in my head. Twirling and spinning, faster and faster, I tossed the fan higher and higher, never getting too close to the edge. This was how they found me, and both stayed back at the edge of the clearing, apparently not wanting to break my conversation.

"That weapon...I've never seen it's equal." Haldir spoke softly, but I heard, pausing just as the blade had been thrown into the air. Both man and elf stared wide-eyed, reaching out as if to push me away from where the blade descended, but I reached out, plucking it out of the sky easily thanks to so many years of practice.

"I am certain you haven't." I brushed my long hair behind my ear, revealing the jagged scar on my temple, making Aragorn wince slightly. I hoped he did not hold any guilt over the injury. I was covered in scars…one of the hazards of being a knight. "It comes from my land...well, a country nearby." He continued to stare at it in fascination. I held it out, handle side toward the elf. "We play a game with them when there are more of us." I told them, handing Haldir the weapon. Usually, I wouldn't hand over my only weapon, but Aragorn stood close by, and he had proven himself trustworthy to me. "It's the same as what I was doing, but we throw the fans to one another. The first person to drop the fan is out of the game, until there is only one person left." Haldir ran his sleeve over the blade and grimaced when it cut it clean.

"And the first person to lose a finger?" The elf asked incredulously. I smirked.

"Also loses." He handed the weapon back to me. "We also practice fighting with them, although it is a different dance. We do a similar dance with our glaives. A long spear with a curved blade from the same land. They make the best weapons. I trained with their masters for a year after I won my shield." I tucked the fan into my belt. "I have never seen your equal in healing, however." I touched the scar, wondering absently where Mori was. Probably making new friends, I though with a sigh.

"I learned the healing arts from the elves. They have no equal." Haldir smiled at Aragorn, nodding in thanks.

"I'm glad it was elves who gave us shelter, then." I glanced at Haldir.

"I should apologize." Aragorn started, looking grim, but I waved him away as I had Legolas.

"It was my own fault. Besides, I was barely injured. I'm ready to go as soon as you are."

"You will wait here for a few days." Haldir told us quietly. "We insist. You asked for our protection, and we will provide it. When it is time to leave, you may do so by the river. You will be less likely to run into orcs that way, and it will take you closer to Morodr than if you left on foot." Aragorn nodded, and I did as well, taking my cue from him. Back home, I had led my own company, but here, Aragorn was the expert. I would follow his lead.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.


	14. Getting Ready

When it was time for the midday meal, I found the others in a pavilion outside of the building where all of our rooms supposedly were, though I'd only seen mine. Rather than sitting at a table, we all sat on benches and couches with small tables full of food set up around us. On one couch, Boromir and Aragorn spoke quietly, concentration on both their faces as neither looked up or acknowledged me. I wondered if they were speaking about Gandalf or about the journey ahead. Either could be cause for worry. The elves of Lothlorien were speaking sadly around us, glancing at their guests and murmuring in elvish. From above, there was a soft, sorrowful song, and I glanced up to see another part of the city that wound around and up into the canopy. "A lament for Gandalf." Legolas informed us who were listening. I turned to him, sitting back and watching as the hobbits did the same.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked, looking up at the elf who smiled at him grimly.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near." I dropped my head down, hands clasped as Mori helped herself to the food. Aragorn stood, leaving Boromir to sit on a sofa and pick at the food set out for them. I watched Frodo who did the same, picking up a piece of bread and picking it apart. I managed to sip the wine, wishing for water but not daring to ask our hosts. I absently watched my bird swallow a cut of meat. A moment later, the bird brought me a piece of bread that I took tentatively, nibbling and watching, feeling the eyes of the elves on me…or my bird. I'd spent a lot of time on the road with my company, and I'd learned to watch them carefully. I knew when my knights had lost hope.

That was how the hobbits looked now. They had been the closest to Gandalf, and now, outside of their home for the first time, they had lost their friend and leader. With Gandalf gone…how would we go on? I knew that Mori trusted Aragorn to lead us, and to an extent, I did too, but I had to admit, perhaps rest would be a good thing for us. I was used to traveling for months at a time. The hobbits obviously were not. I watched Merry and Pippin eat, and then saw Gimli reclined on his sofa, barely touching the food but indulging in the wine. I placed my half-eaten bread back on the tray.

"How's the head?" Mori asked.

"It's fine, Mori." I moved so that I was lying down, staring up at the canopy and the starts, the quiet sound of singing drifting down and calming me. Closing my eyes, I listened to the strange, beautiful song of the elves as they sang a lament to Gandalf. Could I have saved him, I wondered. No. I was no match for that monster. Sometimes I wondered if I was a match for any of this. 'Of course I am. I'm a lady knight.' I told myself firmly, watching the trees as they covered the sky. There was little to do in Lothlorien, but it had been a long time since I'd actually rested. Mori joined me on the sofa, nestling between my neck and my shoulder. Forgetting all about my food, I closed my eyes, letting myself relax. These borders were well guarded, according to Aragorn, and warriors surrounded me. I could let myself rest for a while.

It seemed as though no one thought to wake me. When I finally woke, it was to Mori nipping at my ear, and I wondered aloud where the others were. "I convinced them to leave you be." Mori informed me, and I laughed.

"I'm sure you did." I looked around at the deserted courtyard, at the now-empty trays and the lights of the buildings beyond the courtyards, presumably filled with elves. It was so beautiful, I thought. If anyone knew how to construct beautiful buildings and cities, it was the elves. I wondered if I would be allowed to stay in Rivendell once this was all over…if I would ever make it back to Rivendell. Sighing, I stood, leaving my hair as it was, a bit tangled as it fell down my back, and headed back in the direction of my room, sure I could find my way.

It was almost impossible to tell what time it was. So deep in the old forest, I could barely see the sky, but it felt like late evening…maybe even the middle of the night. I peered up, squinting and trying to place myself. Never before Moria had I been so unaware of the day or time. I had studied the art of knowing my time and location as seriously as I had studied the art of swordsmanship. I thought about asking Mori, but before I could get the words out, Mori was off, flying high into the canopy, and then speeding through the elvish city. Sighing, I hurried back toward the room but stopped when I heard a noise…like footsteps.

No other elves were out, so I pulled out my fan, unfurling it and waiting, but no one came into the courtyard. Instead, I heard distant voices, and unable to resist, I moved toward them. It was the common tongue they were speaking in, but I couldn't quite make out the words. If I had to guess, though, I would say that one of the voices was Frodo, who seemed to be very good at getting himself into trouble. "Will you look into the mirror?" The voice was low and melodic, with the typical appeal and beauty I'd noticed from the elves I'd met. However, this one was not familiar. Finally I made my way through the forest and found a tall elf standing across from Frodo, a silver basin on a platform between them.

I ducked behind the foliage that surrounded the courtyard, and I wondered at the abundance of pavilions and courtyards in this city. Still, I pushed the thought away, I wasn't sure I could trust this elf. She was tall, and something about her was…otherworldly. She was beautiful, but in a frightening intense way I had never seen before. "What will I see?" The hobbit asked. The woman held a large silver pitcher and began to pour.

"Even the wisest cannot tell for the mirror shows many things." The women spoke as the quiet sound of water flowing filled the glade of trees. "Things that were, things that are, and things that have not yet come to pass." Frodo moved closer, leaning over and peering into the bowl. I held my fan, ready to attack should the woman make a move. She didn't, but Frodo stiffened as if shocked, his fists clenched, the ring held on a chain around his neck dropping forward over the bowl. For a moment, I started to spring from my hiding place, and the elf remained where she was until hobbit stood upright, backing away from the bowl and breathing heavily.

The elf's voice was loud in the silence. "I know what it is you saw...for it is also in my mind. It is the future, Frodo. It is what will come to pass if you should fail. The fellowship is breaking. It has already begun. He will try to take the ring. You know of whom I speak. One by one, it will destroy them all." I felt my heart skip at the words. We would all succumb then. Who was the one she spoke of though? Boromir? I couldn't imagine it would be anyone else…but the thought of every one of us succumbing to that evil…

Frodo was holding the ring in his hand, and I stared at it wide eyed, hearing the voice in my head that promised. It promised power, wealth, anything if only I would take it. It would be so easy. Frodo would be no match for me. I could escape the others so easily…I had been a master at hiding in the woods as a child. Hiding from my aunt, hiding from my mother. I could so easily get away…

Suddenly, the woman grew, or seemed to, glowing brightly, her eyes almost white as she spoke in a deep voice that no longer sounded like her own. "In place of the Dark Lord, you would have a Queen, not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Dawn. Treacherous as the Sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth...all shall love me and despair!" In that moment, as the woman seemed to shrink back down, her face almost frightened in its sadness, she spoke quietly to Frodo once more so that I didn't catch the words. I understood. This ring would destroy us. And maybe I wouldn't fall first, but eventually, I would. Who could possibly bear this burden?

"I cannot do this alone." Frodo murmured, and my heart broke for the hobbit who, it seemed, would break under such a great burden.

"You are the ring-bearer, Frodo. To bear a ring of power is to be alone. This task was appointed to you. If you do not find a way, no one will."

"Then I know what I must do." I wanted to reach out to him, but I only knelt, hiding in the bushes, eyes hot as I realized what he spoke of. He would leave us. He would leave our protection in order to save us from this evil. "It's just…I'm afraid to do it." I wanted to tell him not to be afraid…not to leave us. We could protect him. I would protect him…but could I really be sure I wouldn't turn into something just as frightening, just as evil as the elf had seemed just a moment ago? Surely if an elf could be so tempted by the ring, such a graceful, beautiful, good creature, then I would stand no chance.

The elf leaned in toward him, her smile gentle. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

I hurried back to my room before I was caught eavesdropping, closing my door softly behind me and sitting on the bed. What could I do? If Frodo left us, what role would I have to play in this quest? Would I be sent home, not knowing if Frodo was successful? Would I ever know? If I didn't even try to help, what would it make me? Why else had I been sent here? Could I answer to Aragorn, rather than Frodo or Gandalf, who had led our party before? Was there anything else for me to do in this land?

I woke after only a few hours of sleep, standing in the beautiful room with beautiful, luxurious silk curtains and soft floors and a beautiful canopy bed, and waited. Waited for something…for a revelation or a moment of understanding. Where did we go from here? What would Frodo do? Would he speak with us? Apologize? Seek an apology? And what would the others do?

The sun peeked through my window and I finally convinced myself to move, going over to the curtains and pulling them back. The sun seemed to penetrate the canopy of trees in beams, barely lighting the room as they made patterns on the soft carpet. Outside, I could see Legolas as he emerged from his room and into the courtyard, long hair pulled back in that half braid as always. He did look as though he'd bathed, and he was wearing a lovely blue-gray silken outfit…a long tunic and hose, I supposed. I wondered if there was a place I could clean up as well...and get some new clothes. Heading out into the courtyard with only my fan as a weapon, I joined him. Of course, he heard me as soon as I opened me door, and he turned with a welcoming smile. "Good morning, Anne."

"Good morning." I spoke softly, matching his tone automatically. Everyone was so quiet here.

"The first meal will be served soon. You should eat. You'll need your strength."

"Are we leaving soon?"

"Within the next couple of days." I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back and glancing around, mostly out of habit. "Are you well?" I nodded again, telling myself that I was safe here.

"Of course." I told him, coming back to the present. "Would you know where I could bathe?"

He nodded, gesturing toward a path going off into the forest between buildings. "If you follow this path, there is a bathhouse. There is also a stream, further along the path. Many areas are deep enough to bathe in if you follow the stream. You shouldn't leave the city, though. Guards are posted around the borders."

"Thank you." I bowed, but he moved forward.

"Would you like me to show you?" His concern only convinced me that the orcs outside of this city must be close by…how close had we come to meeting them?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I believe I can find my way. I grew up in the forest."

"Not this one."

"I have a weapon." I pulled out the fan, unfurling it with a smile. "I'll see you for the morning meal, Legolas."

"Of course." We parted ways then, and I headed through the forest, swinging my fan lazily as I walked. Mori joined me, swooping in from above, and I glanced at the bird.

"Where do you get off to, Morrigan?" I wondered idly, taking deep breaths of the fresh air and enjoying not being miles underground in a mine. I had forgotten how nice it was being aboveground. My bird was silent, and l resigned myself to not knowing. I could never get that bird to talk when she didn't want to. Instead, I reached up, ruffling her feathers and letting it go. Once I'd spend three days refusing to speak to the bird when she wouldn't tell me what she had spoken to Ron about. I had been the one to give in, and Mori have given her word that she would never tell anyone anything private that I wouldn't want them to know. I trusted her completely.

The winding trail led me past several homes, or what I assumed were homes, and finally reached the large bathhouse. I had bathed in both streams and the most luxurious of bathhouses in my travels, and I preferred the latter. Until arriving at the palace, I had never been in a bathhouse with others before, but most cities I'd been to since had them, with separate rooms for women and men, each with deep pools of warm water and attendants. An elf came out of one of the rooms, a woman, and I smiled at her, bowing slightly. "May I?" I asked, gesturing toward the room. Mori squawked and moved to a nearby rock, preening and cleaning herself rather than going in. She wasn't a big fan of such places.

The elf returned the smile and the bow, and although she looked close to my age, there was no way of telling how old she really was. "This way." She told me, gesturing for me to come in. I followed, moving into the dim room. In the center was a large pool, and I could hear running water, as if from a fountain. Stripping eagerly and leaving my clothing on a chair by the pool, I stepped in, sitting down in the wonderfully warm water and closing my eyes. I didn't even care about washing anymore…I'd missed warm water. Still, after a while, I asked the elf, who stood at the entrance still, but who heard my easily, if there was soap, hoping it wasn't for sale. She smiled, handing me some.

"Any charge?" I asked, hesitating to take it.

"You have no money, lady of Tortall." She told me with an almost laugh. "You protect the ring bearer, and took up a quest few others were brave enough for. There is no charge." I smiled then.

"Thank you, my lady." At least this quest came with a few perks, it seemed.

I dried off quickly, redressing in my old clothes and tucking my fan into my belt once more. After thanking the elf again, I headed back toward the path that led to the pavilion where we had eaten the last meal. The others were already eating when I arrived, mostly in silence, eyes downcast and thoughtful. I worried, mostly about Frodo. Then again, I had not known Gandalf well, as the others seemed to, and had it been someone I cared for dearly, perhaps I would have the same trouble after their death. Of course, I had lost friends. Many of them, most of them young. I had lost my mother and my brother, and then, as a knight, I had seen friends taken down in battle. But now, there was a mission, perhaps the most important one I had ever been a part of, and my companions, especially Frodo and the other hobbits, seemed too full of sorrow for anything else.

Said hobbit looked up with a welcoming smile as I joined them that disappeared as soon as he looked back at his food. I plucked a piece of bread from the tray, eating slowly. Something about elvish food made me full when I had only eaten a few bites. I fed bits of food to Mori, wondering aloud if my bird knew how to hunt for her own food. With an offended peck at my hand, the bird flew over to the shoulder of Pippin who was always happy to feed her, once he'd learned that I didn't mind. Thankfully, the elves had sat out water as well as wine, and I drank and ate and wondered when Aragorn would tell us how we would proceed.

We spent another day in Lothlorien, resting and eating, while I stretched and played with my fan, seeking out deserted places to practice in between eating, sitting in pavilions with the others, and the occasional conversation with one of the hobbits. A few times, Pippin, asked me about my training as a knight, and I gave him some good stories, leaving out the worst bits. While we all sat, eating the morning meal, I told him about the classes we took in the afternoons after sparring and weapons practice, and how, if you did not finish your assignments, you had extra work given to you to be completed in your 'free time' of which you had none.

"Then how did you finish it?"

"You didn't." I told him with a smile, feeding my bird a piece of bread. "You gave no excuses, and you accepted more punishment work. We all said that the only free time we would ever have wouldn't come until…" Here I paused, feeling stupid for almost bringing up death. I coughed, covering the pause. "…until after we earned our shields. We were wrong though. Then we had even less free time somehow."

"They must have known you had no time to complete the work." Aragorn, too, seemed to be making an effort at joining our conversations, and I welcomed it.

"They did. They all went through the same things. I suppose they thought they were preparing us. But there were no excuses and no snitching." They all looked at me a bit strangely at the word, and I wondered if they understood. Occasionally I would use words that caused the others to stare at me, puzzled, and they often did the same. "Um…we fought a lot." I explained. "Brawling, bullying…once a boy singled me out and we put each other in the medical ward. But when the healers asked us what had happened, we told them 'I fell down.' It was the common excuse. Because fighting wasn't allowed. We never told on one another. It was considered cowardly."

"What did you do if you were attacked then?"

"Easy. We found some friends and got them back later." I told Merry with a grin and a shrug. "It wasn't right, but none of it was, really. The bullying and hazing were almost encouraged sometimes, as though it would make us stronger." Aragorn grimaced. I had a feeling there was no such institution here. But children were mean everywhere.

A few times, as I searched out solitude or pulled out my fan to practice, I was seen by either my companions or by the elves of Lothlorien, and every time they would stop and watch for a while as I, quickly growing tired of being stuck in a strange city for days at a time when there was a mission to complete, threw the fan harder and harder into the air, spinning and leaping and catching it at the last minute. Once, Boromir sat on the bench at the edge of the courtyard, watching until I finally whirled to face him, a tired smile on my face.

"Yes, Boromir?" I asked, snapping the fan shut.

"You do not seem to be enjoying this fine day, Lady Anne."

"On the contrary, Lord Boromir." I spoke dryly. "I'm enjoying it immensely."

"By throwing a fan?"

"This is how I enjoy a fine day."

"Of course." He stood, moving over to where I stood in the courtyard. "May I try?"

"You…you want to play?" He shrugged lightly.

"It seems to be a good way to pass the time."

"Fine. It would be better if you had your own fan…but I suppose it can't be helped." I opened the fan, taking a few steps away. "Catch." I ordered, tossing it slowly to him. He reached out, and then jerked away when it nearly cut his fingers. "Catch it by the handle." I clarified with a smirk.

He retrieved the fan, tossing it back after a moment of hesitation, and I caught it easily. "Good. Now catch." I tossed it to him, and this time, he managed to catch it by the handle, making him smile triumphantly. "Good."

"What about the spinning?"

"Ah, yes. The spinning. Throw it back to me, and I'll show you." He threw it, and before I caught it, I spun on one leg, stretching her other one out behind me, making sure to stretch every muscle before reaching out and grabbing it from the air, then threw it back. As we continued to play, I made my spins faster, my jumps higher until we were both sweating.

"And the point of all this?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Mostly stretching." I said, snapping the fan shut again and then placing it in my belt. "I'd be happy to spar with swords if you'd like, but mine is back in my room."

"Probably for the best. That is exhausting." I shrugged.

"It's a good warm-up for the Queen's riders." I teased. Staring up at him, I wondered if I had earned this man's respect yet. He seemed to trust me…he was kind enough, and I had found myself enjoying his company. Maybe if they survived this, he could show her this magnificent city of Gondor.

"We will be setting off tomorrow." He told her, taking a seat once more on the bench at the edge of the open space, and I joined him. "Where is that bird of yours?"

"I have no idea. She comes and goes as she pleases. We will go by boat?"

"Yes. The elves have been kind enough to lend us some of their small boats. It will be a long journey down the river before we reach the lake near New Hithoel, and then we'll take the path to Mordor. It will take several more months at least…it's a hard road, and it only gets harder as we get closer to Mordor."

I nodded. "I assumed it would be difficult." I told him softly. "The road hasn't exactly been easy thus far."

"No." I knew we were both thinking of the mountain, and then the mines of long dead dwarves. It was here that Haldir found them, bowing slightly as he approached.

"Master Boromir, Lady Anne." He greeted, Mori perched on his shoulder. I sighed at the bird but otherwise ignored her presence. "I hope I am not…interrupting."

"Of course not, my lord." I returned the bow, keeping an eye on my bird as I stood upright. Boromir grimaced a bit for some reason, bowing as well.

"Lady Galadriel wishes to speak to you, my lady." He spoke to me, and I kept my face carefully neutral. "You will be leaving tomorrow, and she has not yet been able to speak to you." I nodded, clasping my hands behind her back.

"Of course." I turned to Boromir. "Excuse me, my lord. Tell the others that I shall see you all at the evening meal."

"Good day, Anne." Boromir murmured, turning and leaving us as I followed Haldir toward what I assumed was the palace. Had Gimli been right? Was the lady truly a sorceress? Had the elf who had shown Frodo the mirror been Lady Galadriel? If so, she had some kind of power, of that, I was sure. I had seen that for myself. But I wondered what the elf would want with me.

Haldir lead me into the palace, showing me into a room where the elf I had seen with Frodo sat, giving me a careful smile. "Lady Anne, Knight of Tortall, bastard daughter of the woods." The lady didn't move her lips, but I could hear every whispered word in my head. Unnerved, I clenched my hands together, my jaw tight. "You have come far…further than most, to join this fellowship."

"Yes, my Lady." I answered aloud, not wanting to play mind games with a sorceress. The elf smiled slightly.

"You have a talent for eavesdropping it seems." The lady continued to speak silently.

"I heard voices in the woods. I am naturally curious." She smiled a bit, staring down at the young woman.

"Of course." She paused, watching me carefully. "Would you like to look into the mirror that so sparked your curiosity?" I hesitated, not sure how to take this question. Of course, I wanted to see my own future...but where was the guarantee that I would not see my past. Perhaps I would see my mother, rope tight around her neck as she hung in the forest. Or maybe I would see the boys from training who cornered me and hit me until I learned to fight back. Or my brother? If I saw my brother, how would I go on?

"What will I see?" I asked aloud, refusing to have this conversation in my own mind and hoping that the lady couldn't read it as well as speak into it. I doubted it to be the case, though. The lady smiled fully then.

"You already know what you will see." Did I? I had a guess. The fellowship falling apart. Crumbling. Each of us giving in to the ring.

"Then why would I need to look into the mirror?"

The elf cocked her head just a bit, regarding me carefully. "You fear your own heart. You fear the ring, and what it will do to you...to those you care about."

"It will not do anything to me." I stated simply. "I will protect Frodo until he no longer wants my protection, and then, I will return home."

"You are so sure of the course of your life." She softened as she watched me. "Do not be so quick to believe your quest here begins and ends with Frodo, young Lady Anne." I clasped my hands. "There is much for you to do here."

I watched her, glancing over at Haldir who stood by the door, Mori on his shoulder. "Is that all, my Lady?" I asked, my voice almost bored, enjoying the surprise on Haldir's face.

"I will see you in the morning, Lady Anne, and hopefully again before you leave for your own land." Wondering if I would ever make it back to her own land, I turned, escorting myself out and nodding as I passed Haldir. At the last moment, Mori flew to me, alighting on my shoulder and nuzzling my ear.

"All these years and I've yet to teach you manners, Anne-girl."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	15. The Argonath

Frodo, Sam, and Aragorn rode in one boat, Boromir, Pippin, and Merry in the other, while I sat in the back of a boat with Legolas and Gimli. The elves had been most gracious, giving us three boats and standing guard as we began to paddle down the river. I would almost miss their strange, quiet city in the woods. Even Haldir, who I'd had my doubts about at first, had proved to be a friendly enough elf, wishing me luck and inviting me to return some day. Of course, there was a decent quest I would not live to accept such an invitation, so he could safely make it even if he did not like me. I thanked him graciously, ignoring the twinkle in his eye when I did so. I got the strangest feeling that he knew more about me than he was letting on, that he could somehow see inside me like the lady Galadriel, but I ignored that feeling too.

Staring down at the water, I let my fingers trail, letting the elf and the dwarf do most of the work. Somehow I did not feel guilty for letting them paddle while I sat idle. Instead, I rested my other hand on the item in my lap. A bow. Elvish, light wood, beautiful and sturdy and perfect. The others had smiled, Boromir almost laughing at the way I took it with such reverence. Drawing it back, I had known instantly that it was perfect.

The lady, Galadriel had given me a gentle smile, my voice soft in my head. 'Remember, young Lady Knight, you have much to do here, and much will rely on you.' The quiver that that I had been handed was light, almost weightless, and filled with arrows similar to the ones that Legolas used. He, too, had been given a new bow…it seemed the lady had gifts for all of them. New weapons and food filled their packs now, and I was grateful. Rationing the food had been becoming difficult, especially for the hobbits.

The boats drifted lazily down the river, through mountains and forests, and I had to admit this was better than walking. Glancing over, I saw the hobbits looking uneasily into the water and I smiled. "Can't swim?" I asked, leaning back against the back of the boat, shifting it slightly. Pippin glanced over from his boat a few feet away from me.

"It's not really one of our skills, no, my Lady." I rolled my eyes at the term. So far, I had been unsuccessful in getting them to call me Anne every time, and yet they called Aragorn by his name, despite the fact that he was the heir to a throne! Boromir, too, was always called by name, as was Gimli. Legolas, though, was rarely spoken to by any of the hobbits, but it seemed as though they were more intimidated by him than anyone else.

"And you, my Lady?" Boromir asked. Although they all spoke softly, the boats were close enough that their words could travel the distance easily. Aragorn and Legolas watched the shores closely as though waiting for something to attack. I supposed I couldn't blame them. Still, I could not hear or see these enemies that they were watching for, so I wasn't worried yet. Mori rode on my shoulder, her sharp eye on the shores as well.

"Like a fish, my Lord." I continued to trail my hand in the water. He smirked, shaking his head and turning away. "You?"

"Well enough." Ahead, Gimli chuckled softly.

"Would you like to pick up an oar lass? Or would you rather have us bring you some refreshments." The dwarf wondered. I heard Legolas laugh quietly up ahead as he paddled.

"Actually, refreshments sound lovely, Gimli. I'll take a lemonade and some fresh fruit if you don't mind." I told him, laying back and grinning at the two who continued to steer the boat. Aragorn glanced over, laughing quietly as I dodged an oar swung at me by the dwarf. I flinched at the water dripped on me, squeaking a bit at the cold.

"Would you like any more refreshments?" I snorted, reaching in and splashing him with water.

"That will do, thank you." Reaching up, I held a hand out for one of the oars, but the dwarf puled it away.

"No no, lass, please. Let me." I sighed, rolling my eyes and lying back again. There was only a little room for my to stretch out, since I was sharing a boat with two other people. Instead, I focused on the water, trailing my hand and watching the fish under the surface, giggling when they came up to investigate my fingers. So far I had seen no hint of danger, not since arriving in the elvish city, and it was nice to travel so comfortably. I didn't hope for it to last, however.

I glanced up after a while, gasping softly at the sight before me. On either side of the water were two statues, towering into the heavens, white and solemn, hands out, faces stern. I sat up, leaning in beside Gimli to get a better look, and Mori took flight, circling the sky and investigating on her own. "The Argonath." In the silence of the water, Aragorn's voice carried across to me, and I looked at the others, confusion apparent on my face. Boromir turned.

"Gondorian kings of old." He explained.

"Gondor…your home. The land with no king?" I clarified, remembering that argument from the council in Rivendell.

"My father is the ruling steward. Minas Tirith, the white city, is like no other." He was quiet, eyes far off as he watched the statutes approach. "The city of kings."

"Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old…my kin." Aragorn spoke softly, and I looked between the two, one the future king and one the son of the current ruler…would I live to see the eventual crowning of Aragorn? I hoped so. I knew with a sudden certainty that he would make a great king.

"I hope to see it some day." I murmured, almost wistfully.

"You shall." Boromir turned to me, smiling. "I will make sure of it. When this ring is destroyed and the fellowship's quest complete, I will escort you to the white city, my Lady, and you will see my home."

"I look forward to it, my Lord." I glanced at Aragorn who was watching the exchange. "I look forward to seeing both of you in your rightful homes."

"We would be honored to show it to you." Aragorn told me kindly, sparing a smile before going back to watching the trees on either side of them. I wondered what exactly it was they feared, but I had a feeling I should fear it too. Running a finger down the bow, I smiled at the memory of the lady placing it into my hands, the thrill that had filled her. It was beautiful, short enough to carry easily in the light quiver and strong, made of wood I had never before seen. The dwarf glanced back at me, snorting softly as I stroked the wood.

"You'll wear the wood down to nothing if you keep stroking it." Boromir laughed aloud from the other boats, and even the hobbits smiled.

"Laugh if you will, master dwarf." I teased. "But even Legolas will not be able to beat me in a shooting competition with this bow." The elf glanced back with a smile at the challenge, and although I knew it was a false claim, I knew that this was the best weapon I would ever own, unless I could get the elves to make my a glaive. At least this weapon had been a gift. I thought to the sword in my belt, the throwing knives in my boot, and my dagger, but was pulled back to the

"I shall remember that challenge." Legolas called back.

As the day wore on, I took my turn steering the boat, which wasn't too difficult as we were moving with the current. Most of the work involved keeping the boats straight, and keeping them from knocking into one another. Eventually, we approached a waterfall, and Legolas reached back, gesturing for me to hand him the oar. I did, and he skillfully turned us and ran the boat into a sandy bank, followed by the others. Carefully, we all disembarked, packs on our backs, weapons ready as we helped the hobbits off the boat. Reaching out, I took Sam's hand as Aragorn held the boat, then reached out for Frodo, helping him onto the shore.

We all dropped our belongings onto the shore, stretching and grumbling softly from the long boat ride. Sam took a seat, dropping onto the ground against a tree, as Merry and Pippin began to gather wood, ready of course to start a fire and eat. Gimli knelt in the middle of the beach, helping to gather the wood.

"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot.. We approach Mordor from the North." Aragorn told us as we made a makeshift camp.

Gimli snorted and spoke gloomily. "Oh, yes, just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that gets even better...a festering, stinking marshland, far as the eye can see." He grumbled.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, master dwarf." I grinned at Gimli's indignant grumbling, as did the hobbits, but Legolas turned to Aragorn, his face grim. After a moment, they seemed to be arguing…Legolas shook his head, pointing at the opposite shore, but Aragorn ran a hand through his hair. Turning to help with the fire, I realized that Frodo had somehow slipped away in the few minutes since we had landed…as had Boromir. Feeling a knot form in my stomach, I slipped away as well, my sword at my belt, my fan tucked in against my hip, and my knives in my boot. The bow and arrow were sitting on the beach, and I didn't want to call attention to myself by grabbing them. Instead, I ducked under a branch, making my way quietly away from the group.

I had grown up in the forest. Much of my life had been spent finding hiding places from my aunt. Some of the time had been spent teaching my brother how to hide in the forest, using the trees and underbrush and tall grassy meadows. Pushing thoughts of my brother and aunt away, I ducked under a branch, watching where I put my feet. Avoiding the crunchy leaves as best I could, I followed the logical path that Frodo could have taken. Mori had remained back at the camp, perched on one of the boats, watching the hobbits, but I was sure the bird knew what I was up to. Whether she would keep that information to herself was another matter. It didn't matter though. I had to find Frodo…to at least offer to go with him. I had sworn to protect him. Then there was Boromir, the charming, kind son of the steward of Gondor…the man I feared would break under the temptation of the ring. I cursed the one who'd made such an evil thing, a piece of jewelry that could ruin a good man.

Ahead, I heard Boromir's voice. Glancing around, I ducked into the underbrush, creeping forward until I was right at the edge of the clearing where Frodo and Boromir stood. "I know why you seek solitude." Boromir was saying to the hobbit, and I frowned at his voice…something was wrong. Reaching into my belt, I retrieved the fan in one hand, and a knife was pulled from my boot with the other. "I see it day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly?" From where I crouched, I could only see Boromir's face, but Frodo was silent for a while, watching the taller man who held an armful of sticks and branches. "Let me help you. There are other ways, Frodo…other paths we might take."

"I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart." I clutched the knife, the dread rising again in my chest. Frodo was frightened.

"Warning?" Boromir asked, incredulous. "Against what?" He moved closer, and silently, I pleaded with him.

'Don't make me do it.' I begged silently. 'Don't make me fight you.' I respected Boromir, cared for him as I would any of the men I fought beside. I didn't want to go to war with him.

"We are all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have…don't you see that is madness?"

"There is no other way." Frodo continued to back away as Boromir approached, and I bit down hard on my lip, starting to stand.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" He snarled, the wood he'd apparently been collecting thrown to the ground. "If you would but lend me the ring…" Frodo jerked away, shaking his head.

"No."

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief?"

"You are not yourself."

Boromir almost laughed, a bitter smile on his face. "What chance do you think you have? They will find you, they will take the ring, and you will beg for death before the end." Frodo turned as I crept closer, almost out of the underbrush that covered me, moving carefully so as not to alert them to my presence. "You fool! It is not yours save by unhappy chance…it might have been mine! It should have been mine! Give it to me! Give me the ring!"

I burst from the brush just as Frodo was tackled to the ground, the two rolling around, and I dropped the knife, jumping on top of Boromir instead, calling myself an idiot all the while. If I had any sense, I would have kept the knife. "Stop!" I cried, unable to do what I knew I should…unable to stop him permanently. I liked Boromir. We had fought together. I couldn't kill him. But I also couldn't let him hurt Frodo. "Boromir, you are not yourself. Stop!" I tried to pull him away, flinching when he shoved an elbow into my side, knocking my off, but I had managed to distract him long enough for Frodo to scramble to his feet and disappear into the forest.

"I see your mind!" Boromir cried as the hobbit vanished into thin air as I gained my footing once more, standing between him and the hobbit. "You will take the ring to Sauron! You will betray us all!"

"Frodo, run!" I shouted over my shoulder as Boromir continued, trying to get around me as I blocked his path. Arms outstretched, I waited, watching his torso.

"You go to your death and the death of us all!" Catching him as he started to get around me, I let him tackle me, bringing a knee up once we were on the ground, wrestling with the man to give Frodo the time to get away. "Curse you! Curse you and your halflings!" Finally, I managed to get the upper hand, although I wasn't particularly good at wrestling.

"Boromir!" I snapped, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him from where I sat on his stomach, pinning him to the ground. He wasn't fighting me anymore…instead he seemed to convulse, the fight going out of him as he stared up at me, eyes going from wild and furious to soft and frightened as they met mine. "Boromir?" I asked, softening my voice tiredly.

"Frodo?" I sighed, shaking my head. "What have I done?" Sliding off of him, I stood gingerly, rubbing my side where he'd elbowed me. Standing upright, I held out a hand out that he ignored, calling instead after the hobbit. "Frodo, I'm sorry!" He scrambled to his feet and started to run, but I grabbed him by the arm, my right hand moving toward my fan. His eyes followed the movement, then his eyes met mine once more, now both hurt and frightened. "I tried to take the ring."

"You were not yourself." I repeated Frodo's words tiredly. "Let him go, Boromir."

"I would not…I am not a thief…" I shook my head, frowning a bit at the word and tucking a stray curl behind my ear. No, he wasn't the thief here, but now was not the time for such confessions.

"The ring calls to us all, Boromir. You were simply the first to give into it. It is why Frodo will leave us." I stared at the trail Frodo had made when he had fled.

"Leave us?"

"He will go alone…he cannot bear to see each of us fall to the ring." There was nothing Boromir could say to that, and I gestured with my chin for him to follow me. "We should get back."

"Why…" He froze, frowning over at me when there was the sound of footsteps, many of them, in the woods. Not just footsteps…swords. Metal on metal. "Did you…"

I grabbed my sword, unsheathing it smoothly and turning toward the edge of the clearing. "Yes." I murmured, looking around. "This way!" I ran, taking the lead as we raced through the trees. In the distance were the sounds of swords clashing, angry, deep voices crying out in pain or triumph. I wondered if they were the monsters from the mine…Orks. Beasts with no humanity left, if they had ever been human. I felt Boromir run behind me, and I clutched my sword, hoping his desire to betray us all for the ring's power had diminished completely. I needed him to have my back if they were going to fight alone.

The first one did not see me coming as I beheaded him, slicing clean through his neck with the sword I had bought with money stolen from my aunt a year after arriving at the palace. I tried to push that thought away as I always did. The other monsters turned when we entered the clearing, and I wondered what they were doing here in such numbers. Of course, I reasoned, it most likely had something to do with Frodo and this ring that apparently called out to other evil beings. With a cry, Boromir crashed his sword against the sword of one of the monsters, driving him back and eventually stabbing it in the face while I took on two of my own, letting myself get driven back until I was against a tree, then pushing back, killing each of them and then turning toward the next one.

We fought our way forward, killing as many as we could. Then, in the distance, I spotted the two hobbits. Merry and Pippin were yelling, racing toward us as they were followed by Orks, and I glanced back at Boromir who stared at them, incredulous. I pulled out a throwing knife, hitting one of the Orks that followed the hobbits in the eye as Boromir covered me. With a glance, I knew we were thinking the same thing. They alone could not fight off all these monsters, not while protecting Merry and Pippin.

I moved closer to the hobbits, fighting my way forward as I stabbed and slashed, doing my best to get as close as I could. Behind me, the sound of a horn filled the air, and I glanced back to find Boromir, lips to a horn he carried with him. I hoped that the others could hear…that they would come and help. I wasn't sure how much longer this was going to work. "Merry! Pippin!" I shouted, throwing another knife at the Orks chasing the unarmed hobbits. The Orks didn't seem to be interested in killing the two…only capturing them, but I couldn't let that happen either.

Behind me, Boromir fought with all he had, attempting to come closer to the hobbits and me, but the monsters kept coming, pouring from the forest, and in the corner of my eye, I saw another one enter.

The twang of a bow…it was a sound I knew well. Turning, I felt my blood run cold as time seemed to stop. The arrow was embedded in his chest. Unbidden, a sob choked me, and I caught my breath, eyes wide as they met Boromir's. He grimaced in pain, half hunched over, and I turned to find a monster at the edge of the clearing, larger than the other monsters that surrounded us, eyes narrow, lips curled up to show sharp teeth, his hand on a bow.

My legs moved before I was conscious of what I was doing. Along the way, I beheaded one of the monsters, shoving another aside as I threw myself against Boromir, pushing him out of the way, the next arrow finding a home in my arm with an awful, deep stinging pain. I ignored it, biting back a cry that tried to tear from my throat. Boromir staggered, and uncaring of the arrow in my arm, I tried to shield him, grabbing a throwing knife and taking down another monster. Merry and Pippin had frozen in horror, and I turned to them.

"Run!" I screamed it, throwing another knife that found purchase in the forehead of a monster that had attempted to grab them. It was too late though. There were so many monsters, but none of them cared about me. They surrounded the hobbits, and then they were carrying Merry and Pippin away. The bow drew back again. I felt frozen as another arrow joined the one in Boromir's chest. The man had stood and was fighting once more, but I couldn't seem to move. "No!" I could only scream, then turned and charged the monster that smiled at me. 'I'm not afraid of monsters.' My inner voice whispered. 'Monsters should fear me.'

Bringing my sword up, I found myself locked, sword to sword with the creature that grinned at my, eyes maliciously gleeful. But I had faced monsters before. I had looked them dead in the eye and watched the life drain from their bodies. I was a killer, I told myself. To be a protector, sometimes one had to be a killer. I shoved back against one of the strongest things I had ever fought, dancing with it, attempting to drive him back, but I only had one arm that was actually working…my left moved awkwardly, but I had no time to pull the arrow out.

The monster grunted, shoving his sword against mine, almost knocking me backwards. Not since my own childhood, when my aunt had held my hand fast against that burning metal stove, had I felt such weakness. Tears rose in my eyes and I blinked them away. I didn't care if the monster saw me cry. Its life would be ending soon, regardless of its opinion of me. I managed to glance back, pushing forward with all my might, forcing my left arm to help support the sword I now held with both hands. Boromir fought the monsters still, the few that still came against him. 'Maybe, maybe…' I shoved that voice away. He was dying. I couldn't let myself hope. The sound of the horn filled the air, the horn he'd blown just a few minutes ago, this time long and loud. A call for help. We needed help.

'Please.' I thought as the monster almost got a swipe in at my face. 'Please, someone come.' I knew Mori wouldn't interfere. But I hadn't seen the bird since the fight had started, so maybe she was getting help. I flinched when the ork's blade came too close again, parrying the blows as best I could. Now I was just distracting him, trying to keep his focus on me. The beautiful bow and arrows were back at the shore…I hadn't even considered the thought that I would need them. Merry and Pippin were gone. I couldn't save Boromir. I couldn't save Merry and Pippin. I couldn't save Frodo. I couldn't save my brother.

There was a heavy sound behind me…Boromir sank to the ground, and my own sword was pushed almost to my neck, the foul breath of the monster in my face as he came close. I brought a leg up, kneeing it hard in the stomach, but the creature barely flinched, and I had to jump back once more, bending and twisting to avoid losing my head. We inched closer and closer to Boromir as we fought, sweat pouring down my face as I tried desperately to keep the monster from killing me.

My foot caught. Of all the ridiculous mistakes I could have made, I thought as I hit the ground hard, the sword poised above me, this was the worst. I would never get up, I knew. I could never recover from a mistake like that. He was too strong. I had let everyone down. Ron. Boromir. Merry and Pippin. Frodo. Weakly, I held up my sword, preparing for a long, drawn out death, when another sword came into sight, and the monster was driven away from me. With a loud cry, Aragorn joined the fight, and I almost cried in relief. But there was no time for that.

Standing, I gripped the sword with both hands and watched as Aragorn attacked the monster, waiting for an opening. I assumed Legolas and Gimli were close by, but this monster had to be killed now. Circling back around, I watched as they came closer, and tried to attack while he was focused on Aragorn. I blinked when sweat dripped into my eyes but ignored the stinging, letting my eyes clear themselves with tears that dripped down my face.

I leapt at the monster as soon as I got an opening, almost managing to cut him, but his sword came up too soon, almost knocking mine out of my hand. I gripped it with all my might, twisting away and standing at the ready, moving with the creature as he tried to face both Aragorn and myself. I didn't dare look back at Boromir. Aragorn attacked then, and I took his lead, both of us slashing and stabbing, doing our best to catch this monster off guard. Finally, I decided that the only way that we would be able to kill this thing was to distract it. Throwing myself forward, I acted as though my leg had caught, dropping to my knees in front of the creature and praying to the goddess that Aragorn was fast enough.

He was. The monster's head landed several feet away as the body dropped to the ground and I sighed in relief, wiping sweat from my eyes. "That was foolish." Aragorn's voice was hard and frightened all at once as he stared down at me. I smiled weakly up at him, the corners of my mouth turning just a bit. "If I hadn't reacted quickly enough…" I shrugged, shaking my head and waving his words away.

"I knew you would." Then, I caught sight of Boromir, and it all came back to me, what I'd briefly managed to forget when I'd prayed for Aragorn to be fast enough to save my life. But who would save Boromir's? Ignoring the hand Aragorn held out, I raced over to the fallen man's side, dropping to my knees and praying to the goddess that he would be okay.


	16. The Road Ahead

Boromir had his head back against the tree, breathing heavily. I touched his shoulder. "Boromir?" He opened his eyes, meeting mine as his eyes widened.

"They took the little ones." He told me desperately, his voice hoarse. Aragorn approached us, and after a moment, he was kneeling beside me.

"It's okay…we'll find them. Don't worry." I murmured, taking his hand. "Boromir?" I choked on the words, swallowing hard as I tried not to cry. "Please…you're fine. You will be fine. You are going to show me your great city, remember." My fingers went down to the arrows. "I'll get them out…"

"Leave them." He murmured, smiling tiredly at me.

"Aragorn…you can..." I felt wetness run down my face as I pleaded with the solemn looking man kneeling beside me. Once more, I touched the arrows lodged in my friend's chest. "Please…"

"Leave them, Anne." Boromir ordered quietly, his hand rising weakly to touch my arm. A thousand smart retorts came to mind, but I couldn't say any of them. I felt someone approach, and I pulled out a dagger, ready to kill them, but it was Aragorn who knelt beside me, hands going to Boromir's chest. Maybe he could heal him, I thought desperately, but Aragorn closed his eyes then, dropping his head for a moment, and I clamped a hand over my mouth, forcibly keeping back the sob. Aragorn stared at Boromir, heartbroken and weary as he touched his friend's shoulder, and I moved to the other side of the tree, hiding my face in my knees, my arm behind me and wrapped around the trunk as I held tightly to Boromir's hand. He'd know I was there. He wouldn't die alone, even if I was too weak to watch. Behind me, they spoke quietly, but I wasn't listening. I couldn't.

When more footsteps came through the forest, I didn't even look up. If there were more monsters, I had no more fight left in me. So I sobbed into my knees until a hand touched my arm where the arrow stuck out. Flinching sharply, I clumsily unfurled the fan with my right hand, holding it out threateningly at whatever came near me. Boromir's hand went limp in my own, and I dropped the fan, wrapping both arms around my legs, the arrow shifting in my arm. I barely felt it.

Arms wrapped hesitantly around me and all I could think about was Gimli, ranting and yelling outside of Moria, and Aragorn, whose first instinct was to embrace his friend. To give and draw comfort in order to calm him. Letting myself follow my own instincts, I wrapped my arms tightly around the one that held me, clutching them for dear life. I suddenly felt so young…there had been so much death in my short life, and I no longer felt prepared to face any of it. But I had to explain myself. Somehow. So I made myself breathe until I could speak.

"I'm sorry." It was a good place to start, I supposed. My throat ached as I cried, my chest uncomfortably tight, my cheeks hot. "I let them get away. Merry and Pippin…I couldn't stop them. I couldn't save him…"

"None of us alone could have." Aragorn told me quietly, a hand on my back, and I realized it was the dwarf who held me.

"I swore to protect them!" I cried.

"Even had you followed by yourself, there were too many. You could not have fought off an entire army of Orks alone."

"I could have tried." I all but shouted at him, disgusted with myself.

"You would have been killed." Aragorn told me firmly, and I pulled away to glare at him, uncaring of the wet trails on my face.

"Better me than them! Better me than Boromir!" He seemed taken aback at that, and for a long moment, he stared at me strangely, but I continued. "Now what? Gandalf and Boromir are gone. Merry and Pippin have been taken. Frodo has probably left by now. The fellowship is broken, Aragorn!" He was watching me silently while Legolas stared at my arm as though wondering if he could get away with trying to help me now.

"How do you know that Frodo is gone?" Aragorn wanted to know.

"He planned on leaving us, you have to know that. He spoke to the lady Galadriel." He stared at me and I rolled my eyes. "I eavesdropped, alright?" It was hardly the worst crime I had ever committed.

He was silent for a moment, then shared a look with Legolas. "The sooner we get that arrow out, the sooner we can get started." I stared at him, then at Gimli who was watching the exchange with some of my confusion.

"It has all been in vain." The dwarf spoke softly. "The fellowship has failed."

Aragorn shook his head. "Not if we hold true to each other." The man looked at each one of them, his gaze landing on me. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death, not while we have strength left."

'Remember, young Lady Knight, you have much to do here, and much will rely on you.' Lady Galadriel's words came back, and I took a deep breath. There was still more for me to do here. Pushing away my sorrow, I took a deep breath, then, looking up into the trees, I called out. I was a knight. Keep moving, that was my motto. Don't think, act. I couldn't protect Frodo if he didn't want my protection. I couldn't trail after him and keep him safe. But I could give him the next best thing.

"Mori!" I called, staring up into the trees where I knew my friend was waiting No sooner had my words reached the sky did the bird swoop from the sky, landing on the ground in front of me, staring up at me warily.

"Anne…" The bird spoke so all could understand, and I let the water fill my eyes again. Crouched beside me, Aragorn watched the exchange closely, and Legolas seemed about to tend to my arm, whether or not I was ready for it. Gimli rested a hand on my shoulder, also confused, apparently. Steeling myself, I forced the words out.

"Not since I was ten years old have you left my side, my dearest friend." I reached out, touching the bird's head. It was true. Ron liked to joke that the goddess herself had sent my friend to me to aid me. Or maybe it wasn't a joke. Either way, without my friend, I would have never become a knight. She had given me the idea to lie about who I was, about who my family was, and somehow, it had worked. She had given me the words, telling me what to write so that I would be accepted. How else would a common girl from nowhere be allowed to train as a knight? I pushed the thoughts away, as I always did. I couldn't bear to think of it. "Now I must beg you to."

"Anne-girl…" The bird cocked her head, moving closer, and I wiped a tear away impatiently, reaching out to touch her head.

"I swore, Mori. I swore to protect him. But I can't now, so I am asking you to."

"And what about you?"

"These three will keep me out of trouble, as much as anyone can, I'm sure. They are more than qualified. But I have my mission and now you have yours. Go with Frodo. He needs you." The bird lowered her head, nodding. Silent, she started to go, but I reached out, stroking my friend's feathers. "I'll see you at the end of all this, Morrigan. But…but if I do not…"

Her feathers puffed indignantly. "There's no…"

I spoke over her. "If I do not…if I do not make it to the end of this quest, go home, and tell Ron all about our adventures here. He'll love to hear it. You know how he loves a good story."

"You will tell him yourself, Anne." The bird jumped to my shoulder, head against my ear as she nuzzled. "I love you, my dear girl." She whispered so only I could hear.

"I love you too." I smiled; pulling away and watching my friend fly away. Ignoring the gazes of the others, I waited until my friend was out of sight to meet Aragorn's gaze. Smiling weakly, he touched my uninjured arm.

"Gimli, help me. Legolas, can you get the arrow out?" The elf nodded tersely, moving over to my side and touching the area gingerly.

"I have supplies in my pack…I left it on the shore." Nodding, I accepted his hand up and let him guide me towards the shore. In his ears, as in the ears of Aragorn and Gimli, were Morrigan's final words, spoken only to them. It wasn't until so much later that they told me what she'd said.

"Keep my girl safe. I'm trusting you." It was a request they would take very seriously.

It was a long walk to the beach, full of twisting vines and braches that seemed to grab at me, making it more difficult than it had seemed on the way out. Legolas was watching me, I was sure of it, his eyes on my back as I walked slightly in front of him, wincing when the arrow would snag at a branch. Finally, fed up with the thing, I reached up, but he stopped me. "Do not pull it out…the bleeding will become worse." I glanced down at the place on my arm that was now covered in dried blood, rolling my eyes in irritation. He was right, of course.

"Fine. We can at least cut it shorter." Pulling out the last throwing knife in my boot, and making a mental note to try and find my other ones, I hesitated, then handed it to him. Holding my arm steady, I watched as he carefully cut through the arrow, leaving only the tip and a few inches sticking out of my arm.

"Not much further." He assured me, placing the knife back in my hand, and I moved carefully to replace it in my boot. His arm hovered around my back as though to catch me should the need arise, but I wasn't about to fall. I had humiliated myself enough, first failing the fellowship I had imposed myself upon, and then crying in front of them like a child. So now I wouldn't give them any reason to doubt my ability. Thinking back to Boromir, I glanced back at Legolas.

"We need to bury him." I spoke roughly and then cleared my throat. "Or whatever custom you have here."

If he noticed I was trying not to cry, he did not mention it, thankfully. "Aragorn and Gimli are taking care of it."

"I can help."

"You have an arrow sticking out of your shoulder, Anne. The wound needs to be dressed."

"And then I can help."

"Aragorn and Gimli will take care of Boromir." He spoke with a calm patience that infuriated me. But as always, he seemed to sense this before I spoke, and placed a hand on my shoulder, speaking with some exasperation. "They do it, not because they think you cannot, but because they wish to spare you that pain. Boromir cared deeply for you, as we all do. We have all become like family, and not one of us believes that you are less, or that you cannot fight as well as any of us. You are strong, and brave, and we can rely on you, but none of that will do us any good if you die from an infected wound." I closed my eyes, nodding and walking once more with him as he continued.

"None of us believe you are weak, Anne. You lost someone you cared for. It is, I believe, an experience you have had far too many times for one so young, surely more times than myself." I glanced at him as they walked, noting his sad, far off expression. "My people are all but immortal. We do not often become ill, or injured. In our cities, we are safe and content. When we do experience loss, it is strange and terrible…it can tear us apart. My father lost my mother when I was very young, and to this day he will not speak of it."

The vegetation gave way to beach, and he led my to sit by one of the boats where the bag of medical supplies lay. As he approached, I spoke quietly. "My mother took her own life when I was six." I whispered the words I had spoken to Boromir. "I found her." He lay a hand on my arm near the arrow, and I wondered if he was trying to comfort me or assess the wound. Either way, he watched me, eyes sad and kind all at once. I stared out at the water, wondering if Frodo was on the other side, and if Sam had followed him. "We lived with my aunt. She told me it was my fault…that my mother hated me, and that she…she did it to get away from me."

I waited for him to tell me it wasn't true…what I had always feared people would say. Instead, he cut my sleeve around the arrow, moving carefully so as not to jostle the arrow. "If it was true, then your mother was unwell. Otherwise she could never feel that way about her own child. Your aunt sounds like a cruel woman. It is good that you were able to get away from her." Gently but firmly, he began to dislodge the arrow, making me flinch. Keeping my mind on the mental pain rather than the physical, I went on. Who would he tell?

"She hated me. My aunt. She said I was too outspoken, that I should learn to be quiet." He smiled a bit at that even as he managed to dislodge the arrow and pull the salve out of his bag. Glancing down, I stared at the scar on my palm. He looked down as well.

"She gave you that scar?" It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered him anyway, giving him the full story, which I'd never given anyone else. I supposed he deserved it.

"She caught me trying to steal food…I was always stealing. Even in town…in a past life, I was quite the accomplished little pickpocket. She barely fed us, and my brother was hungry, so whenever she slept, or had her back turned, I stole from her. I spoke back to her when she hit me, so she held my hand to a hot stove. I left a few months later." He was silent, jaw tight as he wrapped a bandage around my arm, then pulled away to look at me. "Do you think we can save them?" I asked then, my voice almost a whisper, tired of speaking about my past. "Merry and Pippin."

"I know we can. And we will." He spoke firmly, touching my uninjured shoulder. "Come. We should salvage as many of your knives and my arrows as we can. Aragorn will want to leave as soon as Boromir is…taken care of." I nodded, standing and moving with him back into the forest.

Boromir's body was placed into a boat, hands on his chest, holding his sword, broken horn beside him. I stood on the shore with a man, an elf, and a dwarf, watching my friend's body disappear over the falls. I cried again, but quietly, the tears dripping down my cheeks. Aragorn placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently, and I reached down, gripping Gimli's hand. The dwarf reached up and touched Legolas's arm, and together they stood, connected, watching their comrade's body go over the falls. I remembered Galadriel's words. I had more to do here. More to accomplish. I may no longer be protecting Frodo, but Merry and Pippin needed me now, and I would not fail them.

 

Thank you so much to everyone who has read or reviewed this story. I have plans to continue, but some of that depends on wheter there is any interest in this story :)

**Author's Note:**

> I know that there a probably going to be a couple of inconsistencies…for instance, I have no idea how long it would take to get from the coast of Middle Earth to Rivendell. But I hope these don't detract from the actual story. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.


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